A Matter of Trust
by Brillant
Summary: Hermione has been left alone and, under the advice of Dumbledore's portrait, turns to Snape for help. Alternative seventh year. SS/HG. Contains spoilers for HBP and DH.
1. A Visit to Spinner's End

She should have checked the weather forecast. That was the single thought that ran through her mind as she made her way through the busy village. The rain was coming down so heavily (as it had been for the past four weeks) that the drops bounced when they hit the ground. It was simply imprudent to use magic; she had no desire to break the Statute of Security, and it was possible that someone was tracing her magic. She wished she had brought an umbrella.

With her head bowed and her hood masking her face, she avoided making eye-contact with the few people that passed, and headed towards the outskirts of the village. It was a grim little place in the rain, and she was certain that it was just as dismal in the sunshine. The houses had been dirtied over time by smoke, which had once billowed from the disused factory that towered ominously over the area and blocked any light. The people all looked unhappy; each wearing identical scowls and shuffling off home to get warm. She was certain that she could never fit in a place like this; but the person she was seeking would certainly find himself at home there.

As she passed the last of the small shops, she turned left into a back alley between two rows of identical houses. The alley was filthy; graffiti was sprayed across the wall, and piles of rubbish lined the sides. A rat scurried past her feet, and she fought the urge to squeal; even though she had witnessed worse things, rodents still disgusted her. The rancid smell from the nearby river made her nose wrinkle in revulsion. It was truly a horrid place. She followed this alley for fifteen minutes, until she reached the very end of the houses. Standing beneath the shadow of the disused factory, she tilted her head back to look at the towering chimney. It was a threatening sight; reminding her of the dangerous position she had put herself in. This was not her final destination, however, but she was close.

Continuing past the factory, the silence was broken as a dog barked. It made her jump, and she whipped round with her wand drawn. There was no one there, but it was better to be safe than sorry. Turning right after the factory, she found herself on the correct street. It was cobbled, and would have been quaint were it not for the desolate houses. Only one of them remained completely intact, and that was the one she wanted. As she approached it, she began to feel the nerves stirring in her stomach. She knew she was putting her life in danger, knew that there was a chance she had done something stupid by coming here. _But how can you even be sure he'll be here _she reasoned with herself _the aurors will have checked, he would be stupid to return. _As she came to a stop outside of the house, she was uncertain which alternative she preferred.

The first thing she did was, simply, to try and open the door. She had not expected it to work, and so found herself greatly surprised when the door opened with ease. On the other side, she found a narrow hallway that appeared not to have been touched for some time. The front room was, oddly, completely empty. Drawing her wand, she moved along the hallway to the back room. It was furnished as a small sitting room although, by the tiles on the walls, she could tell that it was formerly the kitchen. It was the strangest house she had ever seen, but she supposed that was because it wasn't a _home_.

Tentatively, she moved towards the small table that stood next to the only chair in the room. There was a pile of newspapers on it; the oldest dating from three months previously, the newest dating from only the day before. Her stomach flipped with anxiety. This seemed to confirm that the house had, at a recent time, been inhabited. She did not linger on this fact, however, as she was distracted by the front of the newspaper. She wanted to laugh aloud at the falsified propaganda that had been printed; her laughter was almost hysterical, for in truth she wanted to cry. The Death Eaters were in control of almost everything now, and it had only been two months since that fateful night at Hogwarts.

Even as she pondered these events, she knew that someone had entered the room. Being in hiding for the past few weeks, her senses had been heightened, and the back of her neck prickled with fear and awareness. She let out a small sigh to steady her nerves, before whipping round to face whoever had entered the room. It was him. She was not surprised; in fact, she was almost relieved. She was glad it was not an auror, as her presence there would have caused yet more chaos.

"Professor Snape." She breathed, her voice nothing more than a whisper.

"Miss Granger." His voice was clipped and formal, but tinged with a threat. She slipped her wand into her sleeve as a form of surrender, a peace offering. She was not there to harm him.

"I hope I'm not intruding."

It was clearly not the response he was expecting, for he raised an eyebrow. Hermione noticed that he was unwashed and unkempt; his robes were shabby, and his filthy hair had been tied back to prevent it becoming worse. She was probably in a similar state – being on the run was certainly not good for one's appearance.

"I have to say, Miss Granger, I am thoroughly disappointed in you."

"Oh?" She asked, being presumptuous enough to sit in the armchair without an invitation. "Why is that, sir?"

"Firstly you have come to my home, as it seems, completely alone with no apparent purpose. Secondly, your reaction has been thoroughly anti-climactic; I was at least hoping for hysterics, shouting and perhaps a pathetic attempt at an Unforgivable like you dear friend. And finally, because you seem to be lacking any sense of decorum by walking into my house unannounced."

Hermione offered him a half smile and a shrug, resting her head against the back of the chair. Even though it was old and worn, she was both warm and comfortable. She stretched out her legs and gave a satisfied sigh at the relief of being sat down. She had walked terribly far.

"This is the first time I've been inside for three weeks. I've been living rough, you see, moving around the country." He raised an eyebrow. "I know that isn't an excuse for my rudeness, sir." He said nothing in reply, but simply conjured another chair and sat down.

"Now tell me, why are you here?"

That was a very complex question, and Hermione was not certain of the answer herself. A whole mélange of things had led her to taking drastic measures, but she could not identify the reason why she had decided to track him down.

"I need your help, Professor." A dark look fell across his face, making him look more ominous than he usually did.

"My my! Seeking help from a known murderer? Whatever has happened to our self-righteous Miss Granger?"

"I still trust you. Professor Dumbledore trusted you and, despite your actions, his portrait it still defending you. He told Harry that you were not a great concern, that you were still 'an honourable man'."

"Well then you are a fool. Just like he was. I _killed _him, Granger."

"And I believe there is a reasonable explanation for it – not that you'll tell me what it is, of course."

He stared at her for a moment, his eyes narrowed. He was clearly mulling this over, trying to figure her out. Hermione still felt slightly afraid. Even though she asserted that she trusted him, she had no solid proof; he could still be Voldemort's man, a cold-blooded murderer. Although, he would have killed her by now if he'd wanted to.

"I stand firm that you are foolish. This house is usually watched every day by Death Eaters; they are only absent today because I am present here. You ran a great risk of getting yourself killed, Miss Granger."

"No matter where I go, I'm at risk!"

"But why are you not with Mr Potter, as the papers are purporting you to be? You said you have not been indoors for almost three weeks..." Hermione sighed, bringing a hand down to cover her eyes.

"I've been on the run, sir; living in forests, caves….anywhere inconspicuous where I could lay down my head."

"I do not understand."

"They left me!" She exclaimed. "They left me, Professor, and I had no other choice!"

* * *

><p><em>Three weeks earlier<em>

"I don't see why we have to do all the bloody cleaning up." Ron moaned, throwing himself onto his freshly-made bed. "You'd think we were House Elves, the way she's going on!" Hermione gave Ron a scolding look, before waving her wand and straightening the bed clothes beneath him. Harry was sat on the floor in the corner, lazily moving his wand to make a feather duster haphazardly dust the ceiling. It was a beautiful summer's day outside, the sun was high in the sky and blazing down across the Devonshire countryside; not that any of them had had the chance to experience it, for Molly had been cracking the whip.

"It's your brother's wedding tomorrow!" Hermione chastised. "You should _want _to help!"

"And I do. That's why me and Harry are showing people to their seats, isn't that right, mate?"

Hermione rolled her eyes and sat on the floor, pulling out a thick book from underneath the bed. It was a compilation, a collection of information that she had made; it told them almost everything they needed to know about the creation and destruction of Horcruxes, as well as important details about the Death Eaters and Lord Voldemort. She opened the book to the first page, where she had created a detailed time schedule. The boys had told her it was a waste of time, and that it was very unlikely things would go to plan, but she liked to be prepared. The only time slot she had not been able to fill, was what they would do directly after leaving The Burrow.

"So" she started, "I think now is the ideal time to decide where we're going to go next." She looked at Harry expectantly, smiling warmly at him.

"Godric's Hollow."

The smile slid from Hermione's face, to be replaced by a pensive frown. Harry had always said that he wanted to visit Godric's Hollow, but Hermione thought that it was a terribly dangerous idea. Voldemort _knew _Harry; she was certain that all they would find there would be a life-threatening trap.

"I understand that you want to see the place you lived, but – "

"But you don't understand, do you? Otherwise we wouldn't be arguing about this. _Again._"

"It could be dangerous, Harry! They'll be expecting you, and who knows what could happen? I really think we should concentrate on finding the identity of R.A.B…Ron, what do you think?" Ron looked sheepish as the attention was turned to him.

"Well…er…I sort of think we should do what Harry wants really. I mean, he _is _The Chosen One and all that…"

Hermione let out a scoff. She could not believe how obstinate they were being; couldn't they see how dangerous it was? She let out a disgruntled sigh and slammed the book shut, shoving it back under the bed.

"If we should disregard our safety, simply because Harry is 'The Chosen One' I'm not entirely sure I want to come on this trip."

"Maybe it would be best if you didn't." Harry snapped. Ron let out a quiet gasp, looking from Harry to Hermione with wide eyes. Hermione felt her heart jump, and her eyes inexplicably well with tears.

"So you'd rather do this without me?" She stammered. "You…you would rather I didn't come?" Harry moved to sit next to her, putting a comforting arm around her shoulders.

"For your own safety, Hermione. You're afraid, I can tell. There isn't room for fear on a trip like this. Everywhere we go we'll brush death; it's inevitable."

She pushed his arm away from her, scrambling to her feet. Something inside of her had snapped. Ever since Dumbledore had been murdered, Hermione had been planning what they should do. She knew more about Voldemort's Horcruxes than Ron and Harry put together; in fact, she had dedicated most of her time to learning about them. Whilst they had been playing Quidditch and lounging about in the sunshine, behaving as if there was nothing wrong, she had been dedicating her time to real hard work. You-Know-Who wouldn't be lying around in bed until midday and sneaking to the local pub of an evening, would he? They needed to be as planned as he was, if they wanted a chance of beating him. The very idea that they would discard her, simply because she was feeling a little natural fear, sickened her. Weren't they supposed to be a trio – the Golden Trio?

"You need me! If I don't come with you, you'll know nothing!" She picked up the book and shook it at them. "_This _is what will help you defeat You-Know-Who, Harry! Not false bravado and sheer luck! I'm going to my room, and taking this with me. You know where to find me, when you finally come to your senses."

Hermione locked herself in her room, throwing the book angrily beneath her bed. The truth was they had hurt her by saying that she should not come. It was as though her work meant nothing to them. She knew that they had never understood her love for research and learning, but surely in this situation they _had _to realise how important it was. Muttering under her breath, she sat at the vanity table and began roughly brushing her hair. By the time she finished, it would be a huge unmanageable puff, but in the meantime it allowed her to vent her frustration. She was so _angry _at both of them – Ron especially. They had spoken often about Harry, and they had both agreed that he seemed more reckless now than ever; he appeared to have no plan, no idea what he was really going to do. But it seemed that Ron was not brave enough to admit this to Harry himself. She flung the brush down on the table in a fit of pique, cringing when it bumped the mirror with a clatter.

Alone in her room, she spent the next couple of hours reading. Hermione knew that it would take them a while to apologise, it always did, and so she was not expecting to seem them until the next morning. She sincerely hoped that their little argument would not ruin Bill and Fleur's wedding; it was going to be a wonderful day, and she certainly did not want to be the one to ruin it. As she turned the page, a tentative knock rang out around the room. Hermione looked up in surprise, before shouting "Come in!" It was Mrs Weasley. She smiled at Hermione nervously as she entered the room, shutting the door behind her with a quiet click.

"Is everything alright?" Hermione asked. She hoped that Mrs Weasley did not want her to polish the silver _again_.

"Do you know where the boys have got to, dear?" Hermione folded the corner of the page, closed the book and placed it on the bed.

"Well we had a tiff a few hours ago, so the last time I saw them they were in Ron's room."

"I've checked. They don't appear to have been there for some time." Hermione frowned thoughtfully. She looked towards the window; the dark was dense, you could see nothing.

"I can't imagine they'll be playing Quidditch at this time of night…" Molly let out a small sigh. "That is very odd indeed!"

Hermione could not help but feel a niggle of worry in the pit of her stomach. They had parted ways angrily, and Hermione's mother had always said 'do not let the sun go down on your anger'. A small voice in the back of her head muttered _what if they've left you, what will you do? _She shook her head to try and dispel the fears, but they were only worsened when a tapping sound came from the window. Shakily, Hermione opened the latch and an unfamiliar owl flew in.

"Mrs Weasley…" Molly took the letter that was attached to the bird's foot, and Hermione saw a flash of Harry's scribbling handwriting. Molly cleared her throat, wiping away a small tear.

"We…we're sorry Hermione. Please remember that…that we only want you to be safe. Don't worry about…about us – you…you taught us well. Harry and…and Ron."

Hermione sat in stony silence as Mrs Weasley comforted her briefly, before running from the room to tell Arthur that the boys had gone. It was not in Hermione's nature to cry, she seldom did it, but at that moment she let out a strangled sob. They had left her. This was the first time in all of their years as friends that they had ever carried out a threat, and they had completely left her behind. She balled her fists in anger, before thumping the bed and letting out another sob. Didn't they realise that she would be in danger now more than ever? Letting out a shaky sigh, she began to think seriously. She would have to leave, possibly go into hiding. It was no secret that the ministry would fall any day now – and when that happened, she would possibly only have days before they came for her. With a quick swoop of her wand, various important items flew into a large corduroy bag. She closed her eyes for a moment, breathing deeply to calm her nerves, before disapparating into the night.

* * *

><p>Snape focused his eyes on her suspiciously. He raised an eyebrow as she squirmed beneath his discomfiting gaze. Hermione stuck out her chin defiantly, as he leant back and asked a question.<p>

"How did you come to the conclusion that I would be your safest choice?" Hermione smiled wryly.

"Some sound advice from an old friend."

"But I still do not understand why you are here." She leant forwards, a glint of mischief and intrigue in her eyes.

"Because you are the only one who can do the job, sir. You are the only one who can help me."

* * *

><p><em>Author's Note: Here it is, my tenth fic! I've been working on this in between settling in at university and trying to deal with the homesickness. Thankfully both seem to be in hand, and I can start posting again! The plot will follow the original Deathly Hallows timeline and plot, but with some obvious changes. Please let me know what you think, and the next chapter shall be up shortly. Thanks.<em>


	2. A New Prince

_Author's Note: Here is the next chapter, a little earlier than I'd planned because I'm impatient! Many thanks to all those who read and reviewed the last chapter, please do the same for this one! :) _

* * *

><p>Hermione waited anxiously for Snape to reply, but was taken aback when he stood to his feet without saying a word. She watched as he walked over to the sink and began to fill an old whistling kettle; he then placed it on the hob of a rather dirty gas oven, before sitting across from her once more. Such a familiar and relaxed action made Hermione even more keenly aware of the intrusion into his home, but she chose to see it as a good sign. Surely if he were to throw her out of his house or even kill her, he would not hang around to make them both a cup of tea? After a few moments of silence, Snape tapped his lips three times with his index finger, before crossing his arms across his chest.<p>

"How do you propose I help you, Miss Granger? This is by no means a firm offer of assistance; I shall decide for certain once you have provided the means of protecting you." Hermione gave a small smile.

"For the purpose of clarity, I have to tell you that this was all Professor Dumbledore's idea." Snape's eyes narrowed.

"And you trust the advice of a bit of canvas and some paint?"

"I would trust that 'bit of canvas' with my life." Hermione said confidently. "Professor Dumbledore believes I am best hidden in plain sight. He says you'd be capable of modifying Polyjuice, or devising some sort of potion of your own, that would enable me to create a new appearance completely – something stronger than a Glamour, less noticeably fake."

"Ah yes, for I have plenty of free time to spend creating a new potion, amongst the long list of other things the deceased Headmaster is commanding me to do..." Snape sighed. "What does he suggest I do with you once you have your new appearance?"

"Pass me off as a cousin or some other distant relative and have me stay with you at Hogwarts."

At that moment, the kettle began whistling loudly. Snape stood once more and removed it from the hob, before placing tea bags in two cups and filling it with water. Hermione was somewhat interested in the fact that he did all of this by hand – not once did he use a wand which, as someone who had one magical parent and was in the inner circle of Lord Voldemort, seemed very strange. He walked back over and handed the cup to Hermione; she cradled it in her hands for a moment, enjoying the warmth, before taking a small sip.

"Tell me, Miss Granger, the real reason why Albus sent you here."

"I beg your pardon?"

"Albus neither did nor, indeed, still does, anything without it benefiting his wider plan. Tell me what the supposed advantage of having you beneath my feet for the next year is." Hermione smiled again.

"According to Professor Dumbledore, I'll be a help to you if I come to Hogwarts and, in doing that, I will be more help to Harry than I could possibly ever have been otherwise." She shrugged. "He wouldn't exactly tell me why or how, but he insisted that I could trust you and that it would turn out for the best t his way." He seemed to think about it for a moment, finishing his tea in four large mouthfuls, despite the fact that Hermione's own cup was still piping hot.

"You are aware that this will be dangerous?"

"For Merlin's sake, Professor, no one is safe now. I'm in no less danger here than I would have been scarpering around the country with Harry and Ron or living in caves by myself. _Why _is everyone so doubtful of my ability to take care of myself?"

"I have no desire to hear your adolescent whining, Miss Granger."

"I'm not an adolescent!" She snapped indignantly. "Anyway, stop dancing around the question. Will you help me?"

"Yes." He stated plainly, to which Hermione gave a sigh of relief. She leant back in the chair and closed her eyes, a satisfied smile playing about her lips.

"I knew I could trust you..._thank you_."

"Do not thank me yet, Miss Granger. You may be able to trust me but that, by no means, means you are safe."

Much to Hermione's surprise, Snape informed her that he was to stay at Spinner's End for the duration of the holidays, and insisted that she stay there too. She found the house something more like a hovel than a home; how anyone could make a house so filthy, she had no idea. Snape found it somewhat bemusing that she spent her days cleaning, although he never voiced any objection to it. In fact, he did not speak to her at all. He woke in the morning before she did, left the house and spent all day doing goodness knows what, before returning in the middle of the night. Hermione preferred it that way, for she could not help but feel a stab of guilt for turning to him for help; everyone else she knew, after all, believed him to be a murderer and a traitor. Of the former he was certainly guilty, but of the latter...she did not believe it of him for a second.

About a week after she had first arrived on his doorstep, Hermione descended the rickety staircase one morning to find that Snape was still there. He was standing by the window in the kitchen, which looked out onto a small and dirty yard. In his hand was a newspaper and, blazoned on the front, was an article about how much of a threat Harry Potter was. It made Hermione sick, the lies they printed nowadays. Snape looked up when she entered and put the newspaper on top of the pile.

"You and I are going somewhere today."

"What if I don't want to?" Hermione asked, knowing that it would annoy him. She hated the way he seemed to think himself superior to her.

"You have no choice in the matter. Besides, it is for your benefit that we are taking this trip." Hermione raised her eyebrows.

"I'm intrigued...where are we going?"

"To see your parents."

"I don't...I don't understand." Snape gave a sigh.

"Miss Granger, when you disappear from the face of the earth, the Dark Lord and his followers will no doubt be curious as to where you have gone, and will stop at nothing to try and find you. When they try, the first people they will go to are – "

"My parents." She finished quietly. "I never thought of that before."

She hadn't seen her parents in a very long time. Roger and Audrey Granger – both dentists, drove a Volvo, lived in a three-bedroom detached house just on the outskirts of London. They were normal, unassuming, unimportant muggles, and it had never crossed her mind that Voldemort would even know about them, let alone use them to get to her. Hermione frowned.

"What are we going to do?"

"I believe it is best that we...that _I _obliviate them. I shall then give them new identities, perhaps send them somewhere abroad." Hermione let out a shuddering breath and closed her eyes.

"If...if you do that, they won't remember anything about me...will they?"

"No." He said, perhaps a little more harshly than Hermione would have liked. "But it is necessary if you wish for their survival."

"Of...of course." Hermione whispered. "You're right...it's necessary."

Hermione was surprised when, instead of travelling by magic, they took the train. It was a rather quick journey to her home town, but it felt like an age to Hermione as she sat alone, so as to avoid suspicion. She could not imagine a world in which her parents did not know her, in which she could not write to them or look forward to seeing them again in the summer. She didn't even know if the charm was reversible, if she could find them again when it was all over and make them remember her. It was a short walk from the station to her house which, once again, she did alone. Snape was already there when she arrived, and she presumed that he had chosen to apparate.

"What do I have to do?" She asked him quietly.

"Let yourself in and greet them. I shall give you five minutes or so to say goodbye, before I shall enter the house. I must stupefy them, and then I shall modify their memories." Hermione nodded slowly, before walking up the steps and letting herself into the house.

Her mother was in the sitting room, watching television with her feet propped up on the coffee table. She did a double-take when Hermione entered the room, before leaping to her feet and wrapping her arms around her.

"Hermione! What on earth are you doing here? Not that I'm not glad to see you, of course! Roger! Roger, Hermione's home!"

Hermione turned as her dad entered the room, his jeans and shirt covered in mud. He had obviously been gardening, but Hermione did not mind when he too pulled her into a warm embrace.

"It's wonderful to see you, love, but why have you come home?"

"I just..." Hermione could feel tears welling in her eyes, and she gave a sigh. "I miss you, and I wanted to...I wanted to tell you how much I love you both." Her mother was smiling, but frowned slightly too. She was suspicious, Hermione could tell; but then her mother had always been able to see when something was wrong, even if Hermione didn't say it aloud.

"Well we love you very much, darling." She said.

"That we do." Her dad added. At that moment, Snape strode into the sitting room. Her parents turned to look at him, fear instantly registering on their faces when they saw his wand. Hermione's mother looked as if she was about to say something, but Snape stopped her by pointing his wand and shouting '_stupefy_!'. Her parents fell to the ground, and Hermione gasped in horror at the sight of them lying there unconscious. She began to shake as Snape stepped past her, and could not bear to be there any longer. Letting the tears run silently down her cheeks, she left the room and went out into the garden, where she sat under a large sun umbrella. She would never be able to go back to that house, not until everything was over, and she could not help but think of all of her things upstairs. The photographs, her books, the horse-riding trophies and rosettes from her childhood...they would probably all disappear with the memory charm. After all, why would two childless people have things that belonged to a child?

After five minutes of sitting alone, the door opened once more and Snape stepped out into the garden. It felt odd to see him there, in a place where she had played and sunbathed, laughed and talked with her parents and friends...she wanted him to leave, she felt like he was marring her memories with his very presence. Wiping away a tear with a silent swipe of her finger, Hermione stood and smoothed her skirt.

"Everything's done?" She asked.

"Yes...your p – Wendell and Monica Wilkins have tickets for a flight to Australia this evening."

"I see." She smiled sadly. "At least they're safe and...And have the possibility of being happy."

They stood in silence for a moment, as Hermione tried desperately to hold back tears. She didn't want to cry in front of Snape; she did not for one moment think he would be kind or even sympathetic, he would probably tell her to grow up. However, Hermione was surprised when, a moment later, she felt a hand on her shoulder. She looked up to see Snape looking at her sadly.

"I _am_ sorry Miss Granger."

"Thank you." She frowned in confusion as he held out his arm towards her.

"Take it, and we shall apparate back to Spinner's End." Hermione stood and did as he said. She felt sick, but whether it was caused by the travel or the thought of what they had just done, she could not tell.

She and Snape spent the rest of the summer living at Spinner's End. It was odd, for Hermione could not identify their relationship. They were not friends, nor were they even acquaintances. He had been her Professor, but now...what was he now? Her rescuer? She didn't know, and did not linger on it for long – being confused made her angry. Approximately a fortnight before they were due to return to Hogwarts, Snape once again broke the pattern and stayed at Spinner's End for an entire day. Hermione stayed in the small room that she called hers and read a book about the history of Wizarding Ireland, until there was a quiet knock on the door. Hermione hesitated before answering, so accustomed was she to being left alone all day. However, after another more forceful knock, she walked over and opened it. Snape was standing there rather stiffly, looking for all the world as if he wanted to be anywhere else.

"May I come in?"

"Of course, it's your house." Hermione stepped back, enabling him to enter the dark room. He looked around, as if expecting to find something for which to berate her. When he found nothing, he turned to her and held up a small vile of thick clear liquid. Hermione frowned. "What's that?"

"This is the potion I have devised for our purpose. It is a variant of the Polyjuice Potion. However, when you add the hair, it does not make you look like that person, but instead gives you a familial resemblance to them." Hermione took it, looking at him in awe.

"Did you make this yourself?"

"Indeed. I have been researching, brewing and amending since the day you arrived here. This potion works – I have tested it upon myself." Hermione removed the cork and held the vial beneath her nose. It smelled disgusting, and the very thought of ingesting it made her feel sick. Snape held out his palm, on which led a few strands of his black hair; Hermione tentatively picked them up, before dropping it into the vial. The liquid instantly turned to deep black and, when Hermione placed it beneath her nose again, it now smelled of liquorice.

"Shall I drink it now?" Hermione asked, to which Snape nodded.

Taking a deep breath, she opened her mouth and tipped the liquid down her throat. She instantly felt the familiarly unpleasant sensation of Polyjuice Potion, as her body and face began to transform. She felt herself grow by at least four inches, and her body became thinner and lost any curves that she had previously had. Hermione waited until the transformation was fully over, before walking towards the full length mirror to inspect her reflection. Thankfully, she did not have Snape's nose, but her eyebrows were just as severe as his and her eyes just as deep and dark. Her hair was also completely different, for now it was black and poker straight, reaching down to her waist. There was no denying that they looked related, in fact it even unnerved Hermione a bit. She turned to face him, and he too looked somewhat surprised by the accuracy of his potion.

"That is...I am pleased that it is successful." He stepped backwards. "You cannot tell that anything is amiss. You look as if we are related by blood. No one will doubt it." Hermione smiled, and was surprised to see that on her new face it resembled a very Snape-like smirk.

"It feels so strange to look in the mirror and see someone that isn't me."

"I have devised a spell which, if you prefer, would mean that both you and I are able to see your true appearance."

"I think I would like that." Hermione frowned, aghast at how intimidating she looked. "I'm not entirely fond of my new appearance."

"At least, Miss Granger, you can live happy in the knowledge that it shall not be permanent."

"Or at least we hope so." She whispered, talking to herself more than anything. "Who knows what I'll do if Harry does not succeed..." She gave a sigh and turned around, Snape withdrew his wand and cast a spell. When Hermione looked back in the mirror, she could see her ordinary appearance.

"Is that satisfactory?"

"Yes, thank you." She turned to face him again. "What are we going to tell everyone? Who am I supposed to be?"

"Verity Prince, my 18 year old cousin." He answered somewhat stiffly. "My mother had a brother who very few people knew about, as they were estranged. He was forced into hiding by vicious muggles, providing you with a reason why you wish to be allied with me."

" And neither of those people are real? We won't cause havoc if a second Verity Prince suddenly turns up, or mysterious father?"

"No, they are both fictional, so there is nothing to fear on that account."

"Excellent."

"You shall have a room to yourself at Hogwarts, but you will share a sitting room and a bathroom with me. I shall give you a monthly allowance of 15 galleons a month, which I realise is meagre, but it is all I can afford. You should not want for much, for food is of course provided by the school, and I shall buy any clothing you should need."

"I...thank you." Hermione said quietly. "I wasn't expecting an allowance or clothes or...well anything really but a place to stay and a guarantee of protection."

"You are more naive than I suspected, Miss Granger, if you believe your safety to be guaranteed."

"When are we going to Hogwarts?" Hermione asked somewhat nervously. "I know term starts next week, but I presume..."

"We shall leave here tomorrow. There are a few things I need to arrange there, and I would like to introduce you to the staff, get any unpleasantness out of the way before the children return." He shifted uncomfortably. "I must tell you now that Hogwarts will not be the place we once knew it to be. It will not be...pleasant."

"I understand."

"Everything has changed, and we must change with it. I shall give you one piece of advice, Miss Granger and, if you must ignore everything else I say, try to follow it. There is only one thing to do in a situation as precarious as ours. Look after yourself, first and foremost, put your interests before those of anyone else, and you _shall_ survive."


	3. An Unexpected Informant

Hermione stepped out of the fireplace and brushed the soot from her cloaks, before stepping forwards to watch as Snape too appeared in the grate. They had travelled by Floo powder to The Three Broomsticks and, at first, Hermione was pleased to be back in that familiar place. However, slowly but surely, she began to realise that something was different. There seemed to be a fine layer of dust across the place, and there were no customers at the bar or on any of the tables. In fact, the pub seemed as if it was no longer open, as if Rosmerta had just packed everything away and left. Hermione turned to Snape, a questioning look on her face.

"Rosmerta is, perhaps understandably, shaken by the events of last year. She chose to close and now, I believe, is living somewhere in France."

"Such a pity..."

"People would not have wanted to drink here anyway, not after what happened, and the students are forbidden to go down to the village. It is now used as a simple Floo point. Now, let us hurry – I do not wish to be late."

They walked up to the school, a fact about which Hermione was not too pleased, for she was incredibly out of shape and the hill was very steep. Eventually they reached the school gates, and Hermione felt a pleasant ache of familiarity. She knew she was coming home. With a smile, she pushed open the iron gates and stepped through, resisting the urge to take off at a sprint towards the school. It was difficult to imagine that anything was wrong in the world when you were at Hogwarts, and Hermione could almost believe that she would soon be reunited with Harry and Ron there and everything would be alright again. Even Snape, she noticed, looked a little calmer to be in the school grounds, and she could even detect a sort of happiness as they drew closer. A happiness that was to be short-lived, however, as Professor McGonagall opened the doors and approached them. She looked absolutely livid and, for just a moment, Hermione thought she was going to hit Snape with an Unforgiveable. But she stopped, staring at Snape as if he were some kind of monster.

"Before you enter that school and become my employer, I have just one thing to say to you _Severus_. You disgust me. You ought to be ashamed of yourself, for showing up here and declaring yourself headmaster after what you did to...to Albus." She shook her head. "I shall comply with you but, mark my words, I do not follow you. I am here to see to it that the children can have the best education, and to protect them from the likes of evil like _you_."

The three of them stood in silence for a moment. Hermione found herself wanting to turn and leave, to give up on their plan and just fend for herself. She could not stand there and see Professor McGonagall so angry and full of hatred, especially for a man who was doing all he could to help them. Snape spoke suddenly and broke the silence.

"Well that was quite a welcome, Minerva. Indeed, I daresay no one has ever received a more pleasant one." Hermione was amazed at how steady his voice was; he sounded more amused than hurt or angry, a fact which Hermione found difficult to believe. "May I take this opportunity to introduce you to my cousin Verity, who will be staying here for the duration of the school year. I do beg, however, that you refrain from giving her a similar sort of greeting to the one I just received." Minerva glared at Hermione.

"This is not a hotel, Severus."

"No, but I am the Headmaster of this institution and so I decide who may or may not stay here. Perhaps you would do well to remember that, Minerva." Snape held out his arm and, after a brief moment, Hermione realised that he wished her to take it. She did, feeling somewhat uncomfortable with the physical contact. "Come along, we must meet the rest of the staff, who I hope shall be more obliging."

Snape led Hermione to the staff room, inside which all of the Hogwarts staff sat. It saddened Hermione that she did not recognise many of them; she presumed they had resigned upon hearing of Snape's new position or, worse still, they had been removed by the Death Eaters. However, there were some members of staff who she knew – Professor Flitwick was sat in the corner, Professor Sinistra was still there too, as was Professor Slughorn. Snape cleared his throat, causing everyone to turn and look at him – or rather glare, that was a more accurate description of the looks on the staff's faces. Hermione shifted uncomfortably, stepping backwards to hide slightly behind Snape.

"Good afternoon ladies and gentleman, I would like to welcome you back to Hogwarts for the start of the new term. In spite of some sensationalist gossip, there shall not be many changes to the school's routines if – in fact – any at all. I would like to introduce you to two new members of the staff – Alecto and Amycus Carrow, who shall teach Muggle Studies and Defence against the Dark Arts respectively." There was a murmuring of dissent, which Snape silenced with a raising of his eyebrow. "And I would also like to introduce my cousin, Verity Prince, who shall stay with me for the duration of this school year. I wish for you to treat her not as a student, but as a member of staff. Thank you very much, this meeting is over."

Snape stalked out of the office immediately, and Hermione dutifully followed him, although she sort of wanted to stay behind and converse with the teachers, try and convince them that she wasn't cruel or evil. She followed him all the way to the Headmaster's office, walking a few paces behind until they reached the entrance. Once they were in the privacy of the office, Snape slumped into the chair and waved his wand, causing a bottle of Firewhiskey and a glass to float towards the desk. Hermione sat in the chair opposite and watched, a loud tut from above distracting her attention. She looked to see Professor Dumbledore gazing down at them from his portrait disapprovingly.

"Severus really, drinking during the day? Surely your return to Hogwarts is not so bad..."

"It was bloody awful Albus, not that I had expected anything different. Minerva is so...and the rest of them. I hate the Carrow twins too, but of course there's nothing I can do about _them_, for the Dark Lord has commanded their presence here."

"My dear boy, you know that there is a reason why..."

"Of course, of course! There's always a bloody reason with you Albus." Without saying a further word, he stood and walked through a small wooden door to the left of the office. Hermione followed him and found herself in a small but comfortable sitting room, in which there were three doors that presumably led to two bedrooms and a bathroom. Hermione stood nervously in the doorway as he sat down on the sofa, once again pouring himself a drink. After a moment of silence, it seemed as if he suddenly remembered Hermione's presence, for he turned to look at her. He looked furious, as if he was angry at her for something she had said or done.

"You are to sleep in there." He said, motioning with the glass. "Go in there now. I wish to be alone, and the sound of your voice would be more than I could bear. Dinner is at 7, do not be late."

Hermione spent the next week trapped in the small bedroom, only leaving it to attend meals or use the bathroom. Whenever Snape saw her, he looked as if a bad smell had just taken over the room or someone had trodden on his foot. Hermione supposed he was taking out his frustrations on her, blaming her for the negative reaction of his former friends and colleagues. She guessed he would be feeling guilty too; after all, the school was a constant memory of the crime he had committed. Hermione longed to know what his plan was, the real role he was going to play in Voldemort's downfall. Whilst she had been in hiding, Hermione had come to the school to try and decide what she was going to do. Minerva had allowed her to speak to Dumbledore privately, and it had been then that he encouraged her to go to Snape. He had suggested to her that Snape was vital in Harry's success, she just wished she knew how exactly and what she could do to help.

The first of September arrived, and with it came a new energy that seemed to take over the school. Everyone was excited about the return of the students, from the professors, to the portraits, the ghosts to the house elves. Hermione too was looking forward to it, anticipating being surrounded by familiar faces. She hoped she would be able to befriend someone, perhaps Luna or Neville, anyone really. But, in the back of her mind, she knew that was not a possibility – everyone would hate her, simply for her supposed relation to Snape. However, just the very idea of being surrounded by people again was enough to make her happy, so she awaited the return of the students just like everybody else.

During the Welcome Feast, Hermione sat on the top table on Snape's right hand side. She spent the entire meal pretending that people were not staring at her, or whispering amongst themselves about her, and instead focused on slowly eating her meal. Nobody spoke to her; Snape was too busy glowering at everyone as if daring them to rebel, and Minerva was staunchly refusing to speak to her. She had never felt so isolated in her entire life, not even during the first few weeks at Hogwarts when she had no friends. At least then she was simply ignored, but now she was hated. As she ate her dessert, Hermione suddenly realised that she had no one to whom she could turn. Her parents did not know her, her friends were miles away, and the people who used to trust her hated the new person she was. Not even Snape could be depended on. Hermione felt tears welling in her eyes, but wiped them away before she began to properly cry; Snape would be furious if she showed such a peculiar weakness in front of the entire school.

When the feast was over and the majority of students had left the hall, Snape descended from the dais and requested that Hermione followed him. They walked slowly towards the Slytherin table, where Draco Malfoy lingered, chatting idly with Pansy Parkinson and a few of the other seventh years. Snape cleared his throat and they dispersed, leaving only Malfoy behind.

"Good evening Severus, and congratulations on your first night as headmaster."

"Thank you Draco. I trust you are well, as are your father and mother?"

"Quite well, thank you. Father is, of course, busy helping the Dark Lord with the rebuilding of the Ministry."

"Don't lie to me, Draco, I'm not one of your empty-headed cronies. I know your parents are under house arrest." Draco blushed slightly.

"Yes...well...father still helps." He sighed. "Who is this?"

"This is my cousin Verity Prince, who will be staying here this year. I have a particular request to make of you. Miss Prince needs a guide, a friend of sorts for her stay at Hogwarts. Would you be suitable for such a job?"

"Certainly Severus, if you want me to do it."

"Excellent. Come to my office tomorrow evening after dinner, and the two of you can become better acquainted. Come along now, Verity, we all have much to do in the morning. Good night, Draco."

"Good night Severus, Verity."

"Good night."

Hermione could barely contain her frustration as they walked back to the rooms but, as soon as the door was shut behind them, she began to rage at Snape.

"How _dare _you make such a choice for me? How dare you think you can force me to be friends with Draco Malfoy?"

"Aren't you lonely, or have I misinterpreted your sniffling?"

"Yes I am lonely, but that's none of your business!" Hermione cried indignantly. "You have no right, _no right_! You are supposed to help me, not control my life!"

"It would be good for you to befriend Draco, very beneficial for both of you."

"Why?" She spat. "Because it would be good for some plan of which I am not to be properly informed? I refuse to befriend him, Severus, and nothing you can do will make me change my mind."

"I cannot stand around and row about this any longer, for I have my nightly patrols to do. Contemplate this for a while, Miss Granger, and return to speak to me about it when you are behaving less ridiculously. Good night."

Hermione waited until the door shut behind him, before sitting in the chair and looking up at the wall where Dumbledore's portrait hung. He looked down at her, smiling a little sadly, and Hermione suddenly wished he was real. She wanted to hug someone, to feel as if someone cared about how she felt. After a moment of self-pity, she gave a sigh.

"Did I make the right choice after all, headmaster? Was I right to follow your advice and bind myself to a year of misery?"

"It is only difficult because it is the start, Miss Granger; everything is hard at the beginning."

"But he's so...so _controlling_. It's almost as if he doesn't understand how anyone else feels, because he's never felt anything but hatred or anger himself!"

"Now Miss Granger, I know for a fact that that isn't true. Severus is in a tricky position, surely you must realise that."

"Of course I do, but..." She gave a frustrated sigh and rested her head on the table. "I feel so useless here! I want to help Harry and Ron, but they could be anywhere..."

"You are much more help to them here, Miss Granger, than if you were running around the countryside with the pair of them. Trust me, it will work out for the best."

"And," Phineas Nigellus chimed up from his portrait, "if you are so desperate to learn where they are, they're currently residing in 12 Grimmauld Place!"

"Really?" Hermione gasped. "What are they doing? Are they alright?"

"I am not a messenger boy, Miss Granger or Prince or whatever your name is!"

"Tell her Phineas, please."

"Very well, they are alright as far as I can see. As for what they're doing...they have a plan, a plan for something big to happen tomorrow!"

"What?" Hermione cried excitedly. "What is it?"

"I don't really know, I'm afraid." Phineas replied with a sigh. "I can't quite tell, for they haven't actually _said_."

"Tell them to take you with them!" Hermione said suddenly, shifting so she was sat on her knees. "Tell Ron or Harry, probably Harry's best for he gets these things a little quicker, to put your portrait in Grimmauld Place in their bag! It's ideal really, for you can 'keep them updated on Snape', only small snippets of information of course when necessary, and I can keep an eye on them too."

"Well, I'm not quite sure..." Phineas huffed.

"I think it's an excellent idea, Phineas." Dumbledore replied, smiling. "Quite ingenious, in fact, do it right away."

"Oh, very well!" Phineas complained, disappearing from his frame. Hermione gave a sigh, feeling somewhat better now that she could know what Harry and Ron were doing, but she was still annoyed about Snape and Draco.

"What should I do?" She asked. "Should I go along with Snape and his plan for Draco?"

"Yes." Professor Dumbledore replied instantly. "Draco is unhappy with the position his family have placed in him, although he will not be swift to admit it. It will perhaps be beneficial if you could befriend him, then he will find it easier to return to the right side when the war is over."

"Hmm fine." Hermione mumbled. "But I'm not happy, and I won't tolerate Snape gloating about it."

"I am afraid, my dear," Albus said, laughing, "You probably won't have a choice in the matter!"

The next morning at breakfast, Hermione tried to remain composed and unaffected as she sat at the top table and awaited the receipt of that day's newspaper. Hermione was still uncomfortable about the incessant whispering that seemed to follow her wherever she went; as she walked from the rooms to the Great Hall, it sounded as if a breeze was following her down the hallways, but instead it was simply the students gossiping. As she rounded the corner, Hermione saw Neville lurking next to a shadow, and it seemed almost as if he hissed at her. Even the staff was responding unpleasantly; Professor Flitwick squeaked and ran in the opposite direction when he saw her coming, and no one wanted to sit next to her in the Great Hall. She supposed that Snape was used to it, for he did not seem at all shaken by how unpopular he was. Hermione was uncertain she would ever get used to it.

As the owls flew into the Hall at breakfast, Hermione watched carefully as the owl that belonged to Snape swooped in and flew towards them. The bird dropped the newspaper in front of Snape but, before he had even picked it up, Hermione reached out and snatched it from him. There, on the front page of the newspaper, was a shot of Harry and Ron sprinting through the atrium of the Ministry. Hermione tried to keep her face empty of emotion whilst she read that they had broken into the Ministry and disturbed the muggleborn enquiries, although why exactly they had done it Hermione could not tell. After she had read the article twice, she folded the newspaper and tried to nonchalantly give it back to Snape. However, his attention was caught by the furious trembling of her hand and, much to her surprise, he gently placed his hand atop hers. She frowned slightly as he leant towards her and whispered in her ear.

"You had perhaps better excuse yourself from the table, Verity, for you are making _quite _a show of yourself." Hermione looked up at him, before pulling her hand away in disgust and standing to her feet. She walked out of the Hall, the rustling of whispers pursuing her once again.

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><p><em>AN: Thanks to all those who read and reviewed the last chapter! Here is the next one, and I'd be much obliged if you would do the same again! :D Thanks! _


	4. A Risky Meeting

_A/N: This mid-week update is many thanks to a) my procrastination of revising for upcoming exams and b) the fact that I probably won't have time to update this weekend, due to seeing Hugh Laurie play the blues. Anyway, many thanks for the reviews on the last chapter, please be kind and do the same for this one! :)_

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><p>The next month at Hogwarts passed quickly, with very little happening in the war. Hermione found herself becoming lonelier as the days went on, spending an increasing amount of time by herself. Snape had requested that she remain within the Hogwarts grounds, and so she was unable to go to any of the shops or walk very far. Instead she contented herself with a daily walk around the lake, although that was often very unpleasant if she came into contact with any of the older students. She knew that they were all suspicious of her, and there was more than one rumour about why she was there. Some believed that she had murdered her own parents for being muggle sympathisers, others said that she was betrothed to Snape; a small minority thought that she was being held as a hostage, to persuade her family to become Death Eaters. Hermione chose not to address any of them, not that anyone was ever brave enough to approach her about it.<p>

Even though she was loath to say it, Hermione was actually grateful for the presence of Malfoy in the castle. She did not actively seek his company, nor did he seem to desire hers, but when they occasionally met in the library or the corridor, Hermione was happy to stop and talk to him. It was strange, to have the opportunity to get to know someone all over again, without any former ties or relations. Draco was quite witty, friendly too she found and, contrary to what her and the boys had once thought, he didn't spend a lot of his time plotting how to serve Voldemort or ruin Harry's life. Instead, he talked about his parents or his schoolwork, both things that Hermione found interesting. It was strange to hear about Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy in the capacity of family instead of hated Death Eaters, and she couldn't help but wonder if he missed them the way she missed her parents. She would never ask him, of course, but she often thought of it.

One evening at the start of October, she met him as she left the Hall after dinner and he accompanied her back to the headmaster's office. As they walked, Hermione was surprised when he began to question her about Snape.

"Are you and Severus close?" He asked.

"Not particularly, but I met him for the first time when I was just a toddler, and it was only the second time I had ever seen him this summer."

"And now you live with him? Isn't that a little strange?"

"Yes." Hermione admitted, happy that she could at least tell the truth for once. "He's a very difficult man to get along with...He hates me, I know, but I sometimes wish I could talk to him."

"He's been that way as long as I've known him. Unfortunately, I don't think it's in his nature to change."

"You're probably right." Hermione gave a sigh.

"Listen, Verity, would you meet me at midnight by the gates?"

Hermione shifted slightly and folded her arms across her chest. Malfoy seemed genuine, but she couldn't think of a valid reason to meet him in the middle of the night. It seemed somewhat ridiculous that she was actually considering it, especially given her precarious circumstances. She looked around hesitantly, as if searching for someone to come and rescue her from the situation. Draco seemed to sense her reluctance, for he smiled slightly and shrugged his shoulders.

"Fine, you don't trust me; I was just going to suggest walking down to Hogsmeade, because I know my godfather prefers it if you stay cooped up inside, and I thought you might want to rebel. Perhaps some other time maybe, when we've got to know one another a bit better? See you later, Verity."

Hermione watched as he walked down the corridor, before letting herself into the office. Dumbledore gave her a polite greeting when she entered, but she simply walked through into the rooms. It was somewhat strange that Snape was not there at all, for he usually returned for dinner and then settled down to some work afterwards. After ascertaining that he was not there, Hermione went back through to the office.

"Professor Dumbledore, where is Severus?"

"He was called away, Miss Granger, approximately an hour ago."

"Called away where?"

"To see Voldemort, you silly girl!" Phineas Nigellus barked from his portrait. "Being a spy isn't all tea parties and taking care of ridiculous, nosey girls, you know?" Hermione frowned and sat in the headmaster's chair. Snape hated it when she sat there, which was precisely why she did it so often.

"When do you think he'll be back?" She asked quietly. "How long do these things usually take?"

"It could be hours before he returns. Do not worry too much for him, Hermione; he has done this several times before."

But she couldn't help it. It was strange, for she did not feel any particular sort of fondness for him, and yet she was afraid for his safety. Hermione gave a sigh, before standing up and taking a book from the shelf; she sat back in the chair and crossed her legs, preparing to sit there for a while.

"I'm going to wait for him here."

"It's fruitless, Miss Granger..."

"But I'll stay here nonetheless."

She waited in that room for three hours, pacing up and down, her footsteps sounding heavy in the otherwise silent office. Hermione walked over to the cupboard and removed a bottle of Firewhiskey and a glass, pouring herself a measure and drinking it slowly. Above her, the portraits slept – all except Dumbledore, who watched her with increasing concern. Hermione sat back down and began tapping rhythmically on the desk until, suddenly, the door opened and Snape entered. He did not see her for a moment, and she watched in silence as he casually removed his outer robe and tossed his Death Eater mask to one side. He stopped abruptly when he saw her, sat slumped in his chair.

"Is everything alright?" He asked, raising his eyebrows.

"Of...of course it isn't!" She cried. "You've been gone for hours..."

"I was required to attend a Death Eater meeting, Miss Granger. Whilst it is not a pleasant occurrence, I was not expecting you to wait for me. You needn't have wasted your time."

"I couldn't help but worry." She admitted, feeling a little ridiculous doing so. With a sigh, she stood and walked into the sitting room, somewhat surprised when he followed her. "What happened...at the meeting?" Snape came over and sat opposite her.

"You have certainly been a topic of discussion this evening, Miss Granger. Both of your identities, in fact, have piqued the curiosity of the Dark Lord."

"What do you mean?" She asked quietly.

"Well, of course, they are still seeking you as you are Potter's friend. But…Verity Prince, as a member of my family, has sparked his interest." Hermione let out a shaky sigh. "He wants to meet you."

Hermione shook her head slowly and, before she realised it, she had stood to her feet. Snape looked at her curiously as she began to pace. Her heart was hammering and her head throbbing. She couldn't put herself in front of Voldemort, not willingly at least. She was certain that he would see straight through the disguise; all he would have to do was use Legilimency on her, and then the truth of her identity would be revealed. He would kill both of them – both her and Snape.

"I can see you are afraid, but there is nothing to fear. We shall prepare, I shall teach you everything you will need to know..."

"I can't do it." She said, turning to face him. "It's too dangerous. He'll be able to tell instantly, and it will all be over..."

"This is not something in which you have a choice, Miss Granger." He snapped angrily. "Is this not how you had expected it to be? Did you, perhaps, presume you would live life as you did before? That you would be happy and reunited with your friends before the month was out?"

"Of course I didn't! But I didn't agree to throw myself at the mercy of Voldemort _either_. When are you going to realise that you don't have control over me? I won't go to him, Severus, and there's nothing you can say that will change my mind." Hermione made to leave the room, but Snape leapt to his feet and wrapped his fingers tightly around her wrist. She hissed in pain, and spun to face him. "Let go, you're hurting me."

"_Think_ for one moment, just how suspicious he would be if you refused to attend. You are foolish if you think that this is about your freedom, Miss Granger, because it is not. It is about the lives of everyone; both you and I are necessary in this war, and the only way we will stay alive to see it to the end is if you accompany me to see the Dark Lord."

"No." She hissed, pulling her arm free from his grasp. "Don't touch me like that _ever again_!" She charged towards the office door, Snape following her closely. Dumbledore woke abruptly when the door slammed, smiling when he saw Severus.

"You are back, dear boy! Miss Granger has been terribly – "

"_Silence_! Where are you going?" Hermione opened the office door, before turning to look at him.

"I'm going _out_." She hissed. "To see people_ I_ want to see, to go somewhere_ I_ want to go."

"You _will _stay here!" Snape bellowed, but Hermione had already gone.

Hermione ran through the halls, relieved that there would be no one to gape at her as they were all in bed. She had always loved the school at night; there was something magical about the way the shadows fell, about the light that the moon cast on the lake. Hermione carefully pushed open the main doors and stepped out into the fresh air, before setting off at full speed down the hill. She enjoyed the feeling of being able to run so freely, knowing that she was soon going to get out of Hogwarts and into the wide world that she felt she had left behind. As she approached the gate, however, Hermione saw a familiar figure standing in the darkness. She came to a stop as he turned, unable to prevent herself from smiling.

"I changed my mind." She said before he could ask any questions. "I want to go to Hogsmeade. Maybe we can go to the Hog's Head, I haven't had butterbeer in the longest time..." Draco shifted somewhat awkwardly and, for a moment, Hermione could see a flicker of guilt pass his face. She suddenly had a heavy feeling of anxiety in her stomach, a slight regret at ever having left the castle.

"Unfortunately, I'm not actually here to take you to Hogsmeade. I was asked to meet you here, and to bring you to see the Dark Lord."

"But...but Severus said the meeting was planned for the future...that he would accompany me there." Hermione turned towards the castle, determined to run as soon as possible.

"The Dark Lord wishes to interview without the presence of your cousin."

"But...I..."

"Come on, Verity, make it easy for me?" Draco drawled. "I really don't want to use magic to force you to come with me...I thought we were starting to become friends." Hermione turned to look at the castle, before turning back to face him. If she was to meet Voldemort, she was going to do it on her own terms.

"Fine." She answered. "I've got nothing to hide, so why on earth should I be afraid?"

"Excellent."

Hermione and Draco walked a little way out of the grounds, before Hermione took his arm and they disapparated. They arrived a few moments later in front of another large gate, lined on either side by tall hedges. Draco opened it with a wave of his wand, and they approached a large manor house that Hermione supposed to be Malfoy Manor. It was a grand place and, Hermione was disgusted to see, rather beautiful – it reminded her of the stately homes she had visited with her parents, in what seemed a completely different lifetime. Draco escorted her inside, taking her to a small room that contained only a table and two chairs. On the table stood a pot of tea and two cups, as a well as a small plate of biscuits. Hermione found it rather odd that it should seem so welcoming, and she wondered if it was all a kind of trick. But, she supposed, he had no reason to want to hurt her or scare her; as far as anyone knew, she was a relative of Snape, one of Voldemort's most loyal supporters. Why would he be anything but welcoming towards her, when he believed her to be one of his supporters too? Hermione sat on the chair closest to the fire, as instructed by Draco, and watched in horror as he left the room. Moments later, the door opened again and Lord Voldemort entered.

She did not know what exactly she was supposed to do, for she had never met with Voldemort in any situation other than a confrontational one. Hermione leapt to her feet nervously as he walked towards her, barely able to breathe as he extended his index finger and dragged the sharp nail across the length of her jaw.

"Your manners are somewhat lacking, girl, but I suppose Severus has been far too busy to teach you any. Sit."

Hermione did so immediately, her back stiff and straight, avoiding his eye at all times .She knew that if she did not look at him, he could not enter her mind. "Pour the tea." Her hand shaking slightly, she reached out and picked up the teapot, before filling the two tea cups slowly and carefully.

"I am...honoured that you would wish to meet someone as insignificant as I, my Lord." Hermione said quietly, unsure as to whether it was too much or if he would believe her.

"Severus has hid you away for too long, girl. He ought to have brought you before me sooner." Hermione bowed her head in acknowledgement. "Look at me girl, I want to see you."

Hermione lifted her head and turned it towards him slightly, her eyes unwillingly meeting his. She had never really looked at them before, but had heard from Harry just how terrifying they were; he was right, they were as red as any blood she had ever seen. Hermione swallowed nervously.

"Tell me how you came to be here, Miss Prince."

"My father's name was Horatio Prince; he was the brother of Severus' mother Eileen, making Severus my cousin. The siblings were estranged following a row in adolescence, and so...and so I never knew Severus or anything about him until a month or so ago when...when he contacted me. I am grateful that he did, for my...my father is dead, my mother too. They were killed by muggles, leaving me to fend for myself with little money."

"Severus tells me you are a talented witch, that you were educated by your father abroad."

"That...that is correct."

"And you wish to turn your talents towards assisting me?" Hermione looked up at him, licking her lips nervously.

"Certainly, my Lord. I would do anything to avenge the deaths of my parents at the hands of those filthy, worthless muggles."

"You are both powerful and beautiful Miss Prince; a combination that will _always _prove valuable." Hermione watched as Voldemort gave a jerky movement of his wand and, moments later, the door opened and Draco entered. He bowed deeply, before turning to Hermione and offering her his hand.

"Take her back to Hogwarts, Draco." He turned to Hermione. "And see to it that Severus brings you here again, Miss Prince."

Hermione stood and mimicked Draco by offering him a deep bow, before taking Draco's arm and walking from the house with him. She walked in complete silence, feeling somewhat sick and almost a little faint. Hermione could barely comprehend the fact that he had believed her; he had not tried to search her mind, nor had he pressed her for details on her past. It was a true testament to how much he trusted Snape and, she supposed, it might have worried others a little. But she still trusted Snape, she knew that Dumbledore could not be wrong. When they arrived back at Hogwarts, Draco broke the silence and spoke.

"Were you afraid?" She turned to look at him, frowning slightly.

"Of course I was." She whispered. "He's a powerful wizard."

"I was terrified the first time I met him." Draco admitted. "So terrified I thought I was going to soil myself, or do something else ridiculous that would get me killed."

"I heard that last year you...he ordered you to kill the former headmaster here. Is that true?"

"Yes." Draco mumbled. "And Merlin knows I tried, but I just...it was difficult."

"I imagine so. Why...why didn't you do it in the end?"

"I was afraid." Draco laughed a little bitterly. "More afraid of killing a man than the threat of being killed myself. But Severus stepped in and did it instead, and I'm grateful he did. He saved me that night, in more ways than one."

They had reached the office then, but Hermione stopped and turned to look at him.

"What do you mean?"

"Well he pleaded with the Dark Lord for my life, for one thing. And I'm convinced that..." He swallowed and leant closer, looking both ways. "I once heard Snape talking to someone, and he said that if you kill someone it tears...it tears your soul. He stopped my soul from being damaged that night and...and I thank him for it." Hermione felt tears inexplicably welling in her eyes, and blinked furiously to drive them away. She reached forwards and placed a hand on Draco's shoulder, squeezing it gently with a small smile.

"He must care for you, if he would do something like that to save your life. You're lucky in that, I think. Good night, Draco."

Hermione opened the door and closed it, leaning against the wood for a moment with her eyes closed. She needed a moment to compose herself, to really absorb all she had just experienced. Meeting Lord Voldemort, the things that Draco had said...it was all so confusing to her, she wished she could find a way to understand. Slowly she opened her eyes, and saw that Snape was sitting directly opposite her. He stood and walked over to her slowly, and she jumped slightly when he placed a hand on her shoulder.

"They took you...didn't they?" Hermione nodded, and was surprised when Snape let out a roar of rage. "Who did it? Did they use force?"

"No...it was Draco, he met me in the corridor and we apparated to Malfoy Manor...The Dark Lord and I...we had tea." Hermione let out a hysterical giggle, and placed a hand over her mouth to stop it.

"And he believed you? He believed everything you said?"

"Yes...I'm surprised by it myself. He didn't use Legilimency or anything." Hermione gasped as Snape lurched forwards and grabbed her by the shoulders, shaking her roughly.

"Let me see the memory of it, I want to see what happened. _Legili_ – "

"No!" Hermione turned her head, pulling herself free from his grasp. She turned to look at him, her hands balled into fists. "Why don't you understand that you don't have control over me? You can't demand to see inside someone's head, to force your way in. I asked you to help, not to dominate me." He stared at her for a moment, his face hard and his features arranged in a scowl.

"I apologise for my behaviour." He said suddenly, surprising Hermione. "I am sorry." She looked at him carefully, before turning and leaving the room.

"You should be."


	5. A Prince's Tale

_A/N: Apologies that I haven't replied to any reviews - for some reason, the site won't let me. So, a huge thank you to everyone who read and reviewed the last chapter - I'm thrilled to see that people are enjoying this fic. All of the bits that are in italics throughout this chapter are quoted from J.K Rowling's Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows. Please let me know how this chapter is! Thanks. :)_

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><p>Hermione found that, as October passed, the only thing keeping her going was the prospect of the Halloween Feast. She had always enjoyed it more than the others for several reasons – it undoubtedly had the best food, the castle looked beautiful, and it held memories of the first night that she and the boys became friends. Of course, her first Halloween at Hogwarts had not begun very well, for she had spent the majority of it crying in the toilets. Then, naturally, came the attack by the troll that Quirrell had let into the castle, but eventually she, Harry and Ron went safely back to the common room and bonded over sweets and several retellings of their heroic actions. Hermione smiled as she walked past that particular bathroom on her way to the feast, trying to imagine a much younger version of herself hiding in there, wallowing in self-pity just because someone did not appear to like her. Would she have ever guessed then that, in just a matter of 6 years time, she would be hunted by a whole group of people? Probably not.<p>

At the feast, Hermione sat between Snape and Amycus Carrow. Hermione loathed Amycus, despite the fact that she knew very little about him and that they had only met a couple of times. He looked at her in a way that could only be described as predatory, and Hermione was sure that he had followed her on her daily walk in the grounds on more than one occasion. Hermione shifted uncomfortably as he leant close to her; she could smell stale cigarette smoke and the strong scent of red wine on his breath.

"Come down to the village for a drink with me later?"

"No." Hermione hissed. "You disgust me."

"You're not too high and mighty for me if that's what you think _Miss Prince_. Just because your cousin's a personal favourite of the Dark Lord, it doesn't mean you're any better than I am."

She felt a hand on her knee beneath the table, and reached down to slap it away.

"If you carry on like that, Amycus, I won't be held responsible for what I'll do."

Thankfully, Amycus seemed to have understood that she was not interested, for he did not bother her for the rest of the feast. As Hermione sipped her pumpkin juice, she was suddenly distracted by a familiar face at the Ravenclaw table. Luna was sat on the end, close to the top table, and she was looking up at Hermione with a faint sort of smile on her face. Hermione shifted uncomfortably, but she could not take her eyes from her; there seemed to be a sort of knowing look about her, as if she could see straight through Hermione's disguise. By the time dessert arrived, Hermione was desperate for the feast to be over – what with Amycus' disgusting behaviour and Luna's incessant staring, she felt restless and uncomfortable.

As soon as the feast was over and the students began to leave, Hermione excused herself from the table and stepped down from the dais. She purposefully avoided passing the Ravenclaw table, so as to avoid Luna, but her plan did not work. Just as she passed through the doorway into the Entrance Hall, Luna appeared before her. Hermione stumbled backwards slightly, almost about to turn and run back into the Great Hall, but the girl was smiling at her warmly.

"Hello."

"H...Hello." Hermione whispered. "Was there something you wanted?"

"I just wanted to welcome you to Hogwarts. I know you've been here for almost two months now, but you always look so very sad. I felt a little concerned."

"Well I'm not sad." Hermione snapped, trying hard to maintain the image that she was related to Snape. "And if I was, it would be no business of yours!"

"That's alright, I understand. But you needn't pretend with me, you know, if that makes you feel any better."

"What...what are you talking about?" Hermione asked, almost ready to shake the girl. "You're terribly strange, leave me alone!"

"Yes Miss Lovegood, leave my cousin alone." Hermione turned slightly to see that Snape had appeared behind her. He was glaring down at both Luna and Hermione, but she could sense that there was no real anger in his voice. "You ought to be in your common room like the others."

"Of course headmaster, I just thought Miss Prince needed a friend. Good night sir, good night Miss Prince." Hermione and Snape stood in silence for a moment and watched her leave, before Snape took off at a swift stride and Hermione followed him. When she eventually caught up in a quieter corridor, he turned and spoke to her.

"Amycus will not bother you again." Hermione smiled slightly.

"I'm glad to hear it."

"You should have told me that he was pestering you."

"I didn't think he was really...not until tonight. I think, Severus, I think Luna recognised me."

"Impossible."

"But she...she _seemed _as if she knew something."

"That girl has always had her head in the clouds. She no doubt meant what she said, about meaning to befriend you. That was all. Do not fret about it."

As they entered the office, the room was abuzz with the sound of the portraits chattering. Hermione looked at Snape who, to her surprise, looked similarly baffled about the uproar. He stepped forwards and held up his hands, silencing them all in an instant. Phineas Nigellus looked at the portrait of Dumbledore, before clearing his throats.

"The two boys have heard the truth about the sword, Severus."

"How? What did they hear?"

"They heard it from some goblin in the forest."

"That is excellent news is it not, Albus? Soon they will begin to understand the importance of it."

Hermione, completely unaware of what they were talking about, suddenly stepped forward and cleared her throat. Snape turned to look at her with a frown.

"What are you talking about?" She demanded. "Do you mean Godric Gryffindor's sword? The one that Neville, Ginny and Luna tried to steal last week?" She looked to her right where, on the wall, the famous sword of Gryffindor had once hung. Snape looked up at Dumbledore who, for a moment, was very still, before slowly nodding his head.

"I believe, Severus, that it is time to inform Miss Granger of the truth."

"Everything?" He asked, and Hermione thought that his voice sounded somewhat strangled.

"Yes...everything."

Hermione watched as Snape began to pace backwards and forwards, his hands clasped tightly behind his back and his head bent forward solemnly. Hermione frowned, chewing her lip nervously as her heart pounded in her chest. For some unfathomable reason, she was not certain she wanted to know the real truth – whatever that was. It seemed to her too that Severus did not want to tell her.

"The sword of Gryffindor is capable of destroying Horcruxes."

"Of course!" Hermione gasped, suddenly realising. "It came into contact with the Basilisk venom in the Chamber of Secrets! So Harry needs it to destroy them, to get rid of the locket!"

"Correct." Snape sighed. "Albus left Potter the sword in his will, to alert him of its importance – the sword was removed from this office for inspection by the Ministry."

"But it was not the real sword!" Albus added. "It was a copy! The real sword has never once left this room!"

"After the fake sword was returned to me from the Ministry, and those silly friends of yours attempted to steal it, I sent it to Bellatrix to be kept safe in her vault."

"The real sword remains here safe." Dumbledore said. "And Severus is to give it to Harry anonymously, to enable him to destroy the Horcruxes. It is hidden, as we speak, directly behind me."

"That's brilliant!" Hermione cried. "But sir...what will happen once Harry has destroyed all of the Horcruxes? In all of my research, in all of my thinking, I could never quite understand what was to come next."Albus shook his head and, once again, Snape sighed.

"_That_ we are not yet ready to divulge." He said. "There are many things that both Potter and I must do before we can even begin to comprehend what follows. Is that all I must tell her, Albus?"

"Perhaps we must see if Miss Granger has any questions...?" Hermione licked her lips nervously. She _did _have a question, but how Snape would respond to her asking it frightened her. She knew he would be angry, furious no doubt, but she needed to know. Hermione looked at Dumbledore, before turning slightly to Snape.

"Why...why did you kill the headmaster?" Snape gave a deep scowl and opened his mouth, clearly ready to answer with a bitter remark, but Dumbledore interrupted.

"I was already dying, Miss Granger." Hermione let out a quiet gasp. "I am certain my withered hand did not escape your notice – it was a side-effect of a Horcrux, unfortunately, and nothing we did could prevent it."

"But...but I don't understand why that meant he had to kill you..."

"There are other reasons." Snape barked angrily. "But it is not yet prudent for you to know about them. I have had enough of this for one evening."

Hermione watched silently as Snape turned and left the room, walking through into the sitting room. She was determined to follow him, for she had one last question to ask whether he liked it or not, but first she turned to Dumbledore.

"There is still so much I don't understand, isn't there?"

"Indeed, Miss Granger, but there is a reason. Things must be revealed at the proper time; too early, and everything could be ruined. It is essential for Harry's survival."

"How can I help?" She asked. "I _want_ to help."

"And the time will come when you shall, but until then you must be patient with Severus."

"I shall try my best sir, good night."

Hermione walked into the sitting room, and was not surprised to find Snape sat by the fire with a glass of some alcoholic beverage or another. He was staring into it, as though it held the answer to everything, the meaning of life. Hermione hovered in the doorway, her arms hanging helplessly by her side. She was still not satisfied, she wanted to know more. A small sigh distracted Snape, and he turned to look at her.

"Am I to presume that my interrogation is not yet over?"

"I just have one more thing I want to know." She whispered. "It makes no sense...no sense at all. Why would you do all of this for Harry, someone you loathe so much? Why would you put all of your energy into helping him, why would you kill to enable him to survive? I know others are doing the same – the Weasleys, Lupin, the rest of the Order – but you're going above all of that, you're doing more than any of them."

Hermione watched quietly as Snape placed the glass on the coffee stable and slowly rose to his feet. He looked at her steadily for a moment, his face void of any emotion whatsoever; if anything, Hermione thought he looked weary. Hermione felt nervous, knowing somehow that she was going to learn more about Severus Snape than she had ever thought she would.

"Wait here." He said a little hoarsely, before returning into the office. He appeared a moment later carrying a small basin, in which swam a thick silvery liquid. Hermione knew from Harry's descriptions that this was the Pensieve, presumably containing Snape's memories. She stepped towards the table on which he placed the Pensieve, watching him as he stared into the bowl. He turned to face her suddenly. "What I am about to show you must be repeated to no one, not only for the sake of my privacy but also for the sake of Potter's survival. Do you understand?"

"Yes."

"Very well. Now we shall enter the Pensieve."

Hermione plunged her head into the Pensieve, and emerged in a sunlit playground that seemed oddly familiar. Snape was stood next to her, his face blank and his eyes facing straight ahead, fixed on the set of swings on which two girls were sitting. There was a boy, stood in between two bushes opposite them, who was also watching the scene. He looked a little strange – wearing short jeans and what looked like an odd sort of smock. Hermione stepped forwards slightly and narrowed her eyes, taking in his appearance. He had stringy black hair and a sever expression. It was Snape. Hermione looked at the older version to see that he was unmoved by this, that he did not seem perturbed by her being in his private memory.

"_Lily, don't do it_!" The older of the two girls shouted suddenly. Hermione watched as the younger swung back high and jumped but, instead of plummeting to the ground, she soared into the sky before landing softly. She had long red hair, cheeks that were a little flushed. Hermione recognised her instantly – it was Lily, Harry's mother. "_Stop it!"_ her older sister, who Hermione now knew to be Petunia, shrieked.

"_It's not hurting you."_ Lily whispered.

"_It's not right. How do you do it?"_

"_It's obvious isn't it?"_ The young Snape said, stepping out from the bushes. He looked confident to begin with, but it began to falter as Petunia glared at him. _"You're...you're a witch."_

The memory dissolved, showing Lily and Snape sat together between some bushes whilst Snape educated her on all things magical. Hermione could see the joy in Lily's eyes, and recognised the excitement at hearing about something as unusual but amazing as magic. Soon the memories faded from discovering magic to their first day at Hogwarts, and Hermione watched as Lily and Snape grew closer and closer. Hermione found it difficult to understand, how and why Lily and Severus had been so close. There had never been any clues, not in all of the time she had known Snape. After all, he had _hated _Harry – surely, if he had been friends with his mother, he would have liked him at least a little? Hermione watched as the memories dissolved and, suddenly, they seemed to be older, in their fourth or fifth year. She and the older Snape stood silently as James and Sirius dangled Snape from his ankles, they watched as Lily came to his defence, and listened as Severus spit out the worst word Hermione could ever have expected.

"_Mudblood_." Hermione turned her head slowly to look at Snape, and saw that his jaw was clenched and his eyes narrowed. He looked as if he wanted to hex his younger self, to curse him into oblivion.

The scene faded, and they found themselves outside Gryffindor tower. Lily was in her dressing gown, and the younger Snape looked as if he had been crying.

"_I never meant to call you Mudblood. It just – "_

"_Slipped out? It's too late. I've made excuses for you for years. You and your precious little Death Eater friends – you see, you don't even deny it! You don't even deny that's what you're all aiming to be! I can't pretend anymore. You've chosen your way."_

The memory faded once more, and regained focus to show Snape begging on the floor, pleading with Dumbledore, telling him that Lord Voldemort was going to kill Lily.

"_He thinks it means her son, he is going to hunt her down – kill them all."_

"_If she means so much to you, surely Lord Voldemort will spare her?"_ Dumbledore replied coldly. _"Could you not ask for mercy for the mother, in exchange for the son?"_ Hermione was shocked by the response.

"_I have – I have asked him." _

"_You disgust me."_ Dumbledore spat. "_You do not care, then, about the deaths of her husband and child?"_

"_Hide them all then! Keep her – them – safe. Please."_

"_And what will you give me in return, Severus?"_

"_Anything." _

They passed through more memories, memories of Snape being angry, hating Harry. Hermione could understand it all now; she knew why Snape had hated Harry so much. He looked exactly like his father, and it had been James who had stolen Lily away. Lily, who he had loved...The final memory confirmed it to Hermione. It started in the middle of a conversation, that much was obvious, but what it was about, she could not tell. Dumbledore was looking seriously at Snape.

"_But this is touching, Severus. Have you grown to care for the boy, after all?"_

"_For_ _him_? _Expecto Patronum!_" Hermione gasped as a silver doe burst from the tip of his wand. It was beautiful, majestic even, as it pranced around the office. Hermione knew instinctively that Lily's Patronus too had been a doe. It made sense, after all; your Patronus was linked to who you loved, and James' had been a stag.

"_After all this time?" _Dumbledore asked quietly. Severus stared at him for a moment, before whispering:

"_Always."_

Hermione gave a gasp as she emerged from the Pensieve, staggering backwards slightly. When Snape surfaced, he stayed bent over the bowl for a moment, clutching onto the sides as if trying to prevent himself from plunging back into his memories once more.

"So now you know, Miss Granger." He said quietly, his voice barely a rumble. "It was _never _for Potter, but for – "

"Lily." Hermione whispered. The sound of her name seemed to send an electric current through the room; Snape flinched, as if he had been stung by it. Slowly and carefully, Hermione stepped towards him and gently placed a hand upon his arm. He recoiled away from her again, sneering at her in disgust.

"I do not desire your pity, Miss Granger." He muttered darkly.

"There's no pity here, sir...I only meant to show you that I'm sorry...that I understand."

"How could you _possibly _understand? You are nothing but a child!"

"I'm not. I was a child who was forced to grow up before her time, because of the constant threat of death. I'm barely older than you were when you first fell in love with her sir."

"Nevertheless..."

"You shouldn't isolate yourself; you shouldn't allow your guilt to become your prison. It disgusts me that Dumbledore has allowed you to wallow in it for so long, encouraged it in fact."

"It is not your place – "

"Yes!" Hermione cried, suddenly feeling incensed by the infuriating man who stood before her. It was clear now, why he behaved the way he did, but Hermione was convinced that it did not have to be that way. It frustrated her that, although she was now very much a part of his life, he pretended as if she did not exist. "Yes, it is my place because, whatever the circumstances behind it are, I'm part of your life! You're not alone anymore...you have _me _now, whether you want me or not."

The look that passed over his face baffled Hermione; his features seemed to soften slightly, before quickly rearranging themselves into his usual unreadable face.

"And what, Miss Granger? Do you suppose you and I shall suddenly become friends?"

"I would like it if we did." She admitted honestly. "Or if, at the very least, you would consider it."

"Why?" He asked.

"Because I think it has been a very long time since you had a true and proper friend, Severus, and no one should ever be without one."


	6. A New Friendship

Hermione was not surprised to see that Snape continued as if nothing had happened, but she was more than a little dismayed about it. She had truly hoped that perhaps he would have accepted her offer of friendship, but it seemed that he preferred their previous relationship – scarcely seeing her and ignoring her when he did. Hermione could sort of understand, however, for Severus had suddenly become incredibly busy. A small group of students had begun a strange kind of mutiny against him, no doubt leading on from the attempted theft the month before. Ginny, Neville and Luna were behind it; they would do all sorts of things, from letting off Weasley fireworks in the hallway, refusing to attend classes and magically writing graffiti on the walls. Snape was constantly running to one part of the castle or another, but he usually just missed the culprits – sometimes Hermione thought that he did it on purpose, just so he would not have to send them to the Carrows for punishment.

One afternoon in November, Hermione returned from her walk around the lake and, as she entered the office, found that Ginny was inside. She was being berated by Snape for something she had done, and Hermione balked as she heard him shouting. He stopped suddenly when he realised that Hermione was there, and Ginny turned to see who had entered. The scowl on the redhead's face deepened when she saw Hermione standing there, as if Hermione (or rather Verity Prince) was even worse than Severus Snape.

"Very well Miss Weasley, I have nothing more to say to you." Snape said. "Thirty points from Gryffindor, and detention with Professor McGonagall for a week" Ginny turned to leave without saying a word, turning her head away from Hermione as she passed. Just as she went through the door, Hermione noticed that Ginny had dropped something. She bent to pick it up, before running out after her.

"Wait! Wait!" Ginny stopped and turned with a questioning frown on her face, balking slightly when she saw a flustered Hermione standing in front of her.

"What do you want?"

"You dropped something." Hermione extended her hand, and felt herself blush slightly when she saw that it was a picture of Ron, Harry and Hermione that had been torn from the Daily Prophet. Ginny too looked embarrassed, and snatched it from her, shoving it into the pocket of her robes.

"How can you bear to live with him?" Ginny sneered. "Knowing all that he's done..."

"He's my cousin and he's...he's a good man."

"Of course he is." Ginny replied, baring her teeth in disgust. "And I'm a wrackspurt!"

Ginny turned to leave, and had walked a few steps down the corridor before Hermione ran after her again.

"Please – "

"What do you _want_?" Ginny demanded. "Not enjoying being trapped in your tower anymore? Luna said we should be nice to you, give you a chance...but you're just as bad as he is."

Those words lingered on Hermione's mind, dogging her footsteps and plaguing her sleep. What sort of person was she, _really_? She thought of Harry and Ron, sleeping in a tent, fending for themselves and fighting to defeat Voldemort. She thought of Ginny and the others too, and their small acts of rebellion that were still more effective than her passive involvement in the war. What was she doing there? Living comfortably, protected by Snape and her new identity, able to continue living as if nothing was different. She could show her face in public, she could speak to people, spend all day reading if she wanted to, eat chocolate and drink wine...What would Harry say if he knew how easy it all was for her? Would he hate her for it? She thought that he probably would; after all, he knew nothing about Snape's sacrifice, nothing about Dumbledore's portrait helping him through...

Before Hermione had even noticed, time had passed by and it was the beginning of December. The Christmas holidays were drawing closer as the weeks passed on, and Hogwarts was feeling distinctly festive. Hermione had found a new place that she regularly liked to visit. One afternoon, when she was passing Hagrid's hut, she became curious to see what sort of a state it was now in. He had left the school as soon as he had heard of Snape's appointment, apparently fleeing to France to do some more work with Madame Maxime for the Order. Hermione had opened the hut with relative ease, and she was surprised to find that all of his belongings were still there. She would go off into the forest and look for wood, before bringing it back and creating a fire by hand and just a tiny bit of help from magic. There she would sit for hours, toasting her bare feet in front of the fire with a book in her hands and a full teapot of tea. She felt a little bit more normal at those times, as if she was simply keeping the house safe until Hagrid came back. She knew he wouldn't mind if he ever discovered that Hermione had been using it; after all, she had always been welcome there before.

Hermione was sat in that position early one evening when, to her surprise, the door opened behind her. She turned slightly to see Snape standing in the doorway, causing her to jump to her feet and send the book tumbling to the floor. He looked around the small hut, before glancing at her bare feet and the half-empty teacup that stood on the floor beside the chair.

"What on earth are you doing in here?" He asked. "I heard some first years chattering about how Miss Prince always sits in the hut, but I did not for one moment believe it to be true."

"I...I like it." Hermione replied lamely.

"But it's filthy, and we have a perfectly good fireplace and tea-set in the sitting room. It isn't necessary for you to sit in here."

"I like to be alone here." Snape raised an eyebrow.

"I thought you hated being by yourself."

"I do, when I feel like it is forced upon me." She said pointedly. "When I come here, at least I'm _choosing _to be alone." Snape gave a deep sniff and waved his wand, causing the dust to disappear.

"Well if you insist upon it, at least try and keep it _clean_." Hermione smiled slightly.

"Did you want something, Severus?"

"I am to attend a Death Eater meeting this evening, and I have been commanded to invite you by the Dark Lord." Hermione felt the blood drain out of her face; her horror must have been evident, for Snape tried to calm her.

"The request was pleasant enough, I do not believe there is anything to fear."

"What if I don't want to go?" She asked, already knowing the answer.

"Unfortunately, where the Dark Lord is concerned, invitations are merely a formality. You must attend."

"I understand."

"Very well, I shall see you in the Great Hall for dinner." He made to leave but, before he did, turned back to face her. "_Do _try to give the students a little less to gossip about though, Miss Granger – at least keep your stockings on." Hermione felt a hot blush spread across her cheeks and, once the door had shut behind him, she flopped into the chair with an embarrassed 'humph'.

That evening, Snape and Hermione walked down to the village. Snape was wearing his cloak and Death Eater mask, a fact that made Hermione feel somewhat uncomfortable. It was odd that he could wear it so openly without fear of rebuke or punishment – after all, the Death Eaters were in charge of the whole country now, and Severus was one of the most powerful among them. At his request, Hermione too wore a black hooded robe, and the idea of how they must have looked made her feel sick. If Harry or Ron had seen her then, they would have thought her to be a Death Eater. She wondered if Snape was ever struck with the unjustness of it – to appear so terribly evil, but have the most innocent of motives.

They used Floo powder to travel to Malfoy Manor, stepping out of the grate in the same room in which Hermione had first met Lord Voldemort. A house elf greeted them with a jaunty bow before, much to Hermione's surprise, offering to take her robe. Hermione handed it over, then took Snape's proffered arm as they left the room and went into the rest of the Manor. As they walked down a long corridor, Hermione admired the various wizarding paintings that hung on the wall. They passed a portrait that was clearly of a teenaged Lucius Malfoy, who winked flirtatiously at Hermione as she walked by. There was a more recent portrait of Draco too; he stood proudly in front of the Manor, smiling out at them before walking off into a nearby painting of two of his ancestors. Hermione stopped to stare up at it, wondering what it must be like to know that you came from a long line of witches and wizards. Draco had ancestors who had lived during the time of Merlin, who had known what it was like to be hunted for simply being magical. Hermione was somewhat envious – the most interesting person in her family was a small-time journalist for the local newspaper.

A hand on the small of her back jolted Hermione back to reality, and she looked up to see Snape motioning towards a door. She followed him in, gasping at the beautiful room that opened up in front of them. It was a dining room and, in the middle, sat a long table around which were at least twenty chairs. Above a large fireplace hung a family portrait of the current Malfoy family; Lucius looked haughty and superior, Narcissa seemed to be disgusted at something and Draco looked bored, but it was a magnificent painting nonetheless. They were among the first people to arrive, in fact, the only person there was Bellatrix Lestrange. She strode towards them when they entered, stopping a couple of feet away and looking Hermione up and down with her dark, deep-set eyes.

"So this is the little chit everyone's been talking about." She said loudly, turning to Snape. "She's a pretty thing, I'll grant you that, but a little too haughty for my liking. Perhaps she would benefit from some...instruction." Hermione saw Bellatrix gently touch her wand, which was secured at her waist by a thing leather belt.

"I trust you will leave my cousin _alone_, Bellatrix. The Dark Lord found nothing objectionable in her."

"My my, we _are_ protective, aren't we? Very well, Severus, I'm sure you know better than I how best to..._take her to hand_." Bellatrix wiggled her eyebrows suggestively, before striding towards another Death Eater who had just entered the room. Snape ushered Hermione to a seat towards the top of the table, taking one beside her but closer to the biggest chair in the room.

Eventually, more people began to arrive, and the table was soon full to capacity. The last person to enter the room was Voldemort, and Hermione felt her flesh creep at his very presence in the room. He looked directly at her as he passed, before taking his seat at the top of the table. The meeting commenced and, Hermione was surprised to find, it was very dull indeed. It seemed to be full of only simpering and vows of loyalty to the Dark Lord; they only occasionally spoke about the war, or Harry, and even that was uninteresting to Hermione. The only time she paid much attention was when her very own name was brought up into conversation.

"The Granger girl, the mudblood," Bellatrix sneered. "Where is she?"

"All attempts of locating her have been unsuccessful." Yaxley replied. "We have ascertained that she is not in the company of Potter, and we are unable to locate her parents."

"It is widely believed that she has left the country." Snape suddenly said, her voice deep and even.

"Her whereabouts are of no concern." The Dark Lord said. "She is insignificant, now that she is no longer with Potter. There are more important issues to discuss..."

Hermione was relieved when the meeting ended and the Dark Lord left the room. Everyone began mumbling amongst themselves, slowly drifting out of the room. Hermione felt a tap on her shoulder, and turned to see Draco smiling at the pair of them. Snape gave Draco a friendly pat on the shoulder, surprising Hermione with the ease that existed between them.

"Good evening Severus, Verity."

"Good evening, Draco. Would you be so kind as to distract Miss Prince for a while; I have private matters to discuss with the Dark Lord. Perhaps a walk in the gardens would be pleasant?"

Draco took Severus' suggestion, and took Hermione to another room, through which they stepped out onto a large patio that overlooked the gardens. Draco offered Hermione his arm as they descended the steps, although she felt somewhat odd in doing so. The gardens were beautiful, as was to be expected of such a grand house, and it was still possible to admire the flowers in the moonlight.

"Terribly romantic, isn't it?" Draco drawled suddenly, a tone of amusement in his voice. "It's almost like a fairytale."

"Don't be getting any ideas." Hermione warned teasingly, to which Draco laughed.

"I wouldn't dream of making advances! Severus would have my right arm for it." Hermione smiled.

"I am surprised at how close you and Severus are."

"We're not close at all, really, it's just years of knowing one another that make him a little more relaxed around me." They walked in silence for a few moments, a silence that was surprisingly companionable.

"I haven't seen you around the castle in weeks." Hermione said, suddenly realising that it was true. She hadn't seen him at any meals, or come across him in the library. "Where have you been?"

"The Dark Lord ordered me to come home, apparently I am useless at Hogwarts...he needs me here with the rest of the family."

"I'm sorry to hear that."

"I'm sorry about it too." He said cheerfully, although Hermione was certain that she could detect a little bitterness.

"Will you be coming back to the school?"

"I'm afraid not – housebound forever, I fear." He smiled sadly. "Severus tried to plead with him, but the Dark Lord would not bend...that's probably why they're having a tête-à-tête now, actually. Poor bastard's probably getting a telling off."

They rounded a corner, heading towards the house, and found that Snape was swiftly crossing the lawn towards them. Hermione let go of Draco's arm and quickened her pace to meet him, for there was no small amount of panic on his face.

"Is everything alright, Severus?" She asked.

"Yes, but you and I must leave immediately." He turned to Draco who had slowly caught up. "I apologise for snatching her away, but we are engaged elsewhere."

Hermione gasped as Snape snatched her hand in his, and suddenly began returning towards the house. They did not go back inside, however, but instead carried on to the front and out through the main gates. Hermione frowned as they came to a stop, out of breath from trying to keep pace with the Professor who walked a good deal faster than her.

"Where are we going? What's wrong?"

"Potter and Weasley went on an ill-planned expedition this evening, and very narrowly avoided being killed by Nagini."

"Are they both alright?" Hermione gasped.

"I am uncertain, but the Dark Lord informed me that they both escaped relatively unharmed. Potter's wand, however, was damaged in the fray."

"Are we going back to Hogwarts now? I want to ask Phineas, I'm sure he'll be able to tell us what happened, and if they're okay..."

"No, we are not to return to the school as yet. The Dark Lord has requested that I clean up the mess that Potter left behind." Snape shook his head angrily. "Not only am I to be a spy, a headmaster and a potions master, I am also required to become a cleaner! Take my arm; I shall apparate us to Godric's Hollow."

When they arrived in the infamous village, Hermione was instantly taken aback by its beauty; it looked like something that ought to have been on a chocolate box or a postcard. She could not help but let her thoughts wander to Harry, and how he must have felt upon first arriving in the village in which his life had begun; the streets where his father had once walked, where his mother had...At the thought of Lily, Hermione looked up at Snape. He was staring somewhere in the distance and, when she followed his gaze, she saw that it was a ruined house that had caught his attention. It was covered in thick brambles, and appeared to have fallen to pieces in some places. Wordlessly, Snape took off towards the old cottage, and Hermione had no choice but to follow him. As they approached a sign appeared, denoting that that was the house in which James and Lily Potter had died. Hermione looked at Snape again, and it was clear by his tensed jaw and the steely look in his eye that he was trying desperately hard to suppress some kind of emotion. She found herself wishing that she could comfort him, but knew that any show of sympathy would simply make him angry.

After a moment of silence, Snape turned and walked down the deserted street, before coming to an abrupt stop in front of a small cottage. He withdrew his wand before entering the house and, feeling an overwhelming sensation of fear, Hermione did the same. The house smelt rancid, as if something had been rotting there for a very long time. It was covered in dust and filth, with pits of paper and other rubbish scattered around the room. Snape gave a wave of his wand and instantly cleaned the room although, Hermione noticed, he did not make it look perfectly neat. Slowly and carefully, they moved up the narrow staircase into the upstairs rooms. Hermione recoiled in horror at the smell, and the sight that awaited them in the corner.

"Is that...is that...?"

"A body? Yes, it is." Snape waved his wand again and the room tidied itself, but the body remained in its place.

"What happened here?" She whispered. "Who...lived here?"

"Bathilda Bagshot. Judging from the stench, she has been dead for about a week. The Dark Lord placed Nagini here, disguised as Bathilda to lure Potter in a crude attempt at kidnapping him."

"That...that's disgusting." Hermione whispered.

"The Dark Lord is not exactly known for being pleasant, Miss Granger."

"Why did you have to clear this all up? Why didn't he just leave it this way?"

"This village houses a mixture of both muggles and witches and wizards. He thinks it...unseemly to leave it this way."

They did not linger in the cottage for long, but it seemed as if Snape was not yet finished in the village. Hermione followed him into the nearby graveyard, walking quietly amongst the graves as they got deeper and deeper into it. There was a gravestone that particularly caught Hermione's eye, on which there was a strange symbol that looked like an eye in the centre of a triangle. She had never seen such a symbol before, and had no real idea what it meant. Her attention was distracted from it, however, when Snape came to a stop in front of a particular gravestone. As Hermione approached, she slowly realised who the grave belonged to. Lily and James Potter. She stopped just behind Snape, reluctant to see the expression upon his face. She was surprised that he had even taken her there, for Hermione knew that it must have been a truly personal moment for him.

When Hermione stepped forwards slightly, she noticed that there was a small wreath at the bottom of the stone, and she knew instantly that Harry had laid it there. Her eyes filled with tears, caused by a mixture of all kinds of emotions. She was touched that he had finally got to see where his parents rested, full of regret that she had not been there to support him and, perhaps inexplicably, a truly overwhelming feeling of loneliness. Hermione wanted to hit herself for behaving so selfishly, for thinking of something as ridiculous as her own solitude at a place that was full of grief for so many people. But she felt the absence of Harry and Ron more keenly there than anywhere else. She ought to have been comforting Harry, she ought to have been there to help him to keep perspective. What was she doing instead? Standing behind a man who did not want her there, privy to far more of his emotions and past that she ever should have been.

Hermione balked slightly, when she suddenly realised that Snape was looking at her. He frowned slightly as he realised she was crying, but Hermione knew that he was neither angry nor hurt. It was simply a look of concern. For some unfathomable reason, that only seemed to make Hermione feel worse. She sniffed slightly, before stepping forwards and waving her wand to conjure a single winter rose. She led it atop the wreath that Harry had left, before bowing her head and finally allowing herself to cry. She cried for Lily and for James, for her best friend, for Snape and, rather pitifully, for herself.

"Why are you crying?" Hermione lifted her head and turned slightly to look at him, she harshly wiped away a tear.

"For selfish reasons." She admitted.

"Such as?"

"I _miss _them." She whispered. "I'm so terribly lonely, because I never talk to anyone. The only people with whom I regularly communicate are the portraits of Phineas Nigellus and Albus Dumbledore! I feel like...like I'm slowly going insane."

Snape stared at her steadily for a moment.

"You talk to me."

"But I don't...not really." She replied, turning to face him properly. "You ignore me all day, and barely say two words of an evening, unless it's absolutely necessary. I've tried, Merlin knows I have, to engage you, but nothing seems to work."

"And what is it, precisely, that you want from me?"

"Companionship, if not friendship!" Hermione said, shaking her head with a sad smile. "As crazy as it may sound to you, you're currently the only person who knows the real situation that I am in. Everyone else believes me to be Verity Prince and, once in a while, it would be nice if I could just be _Hermione Granger _with someone who can understand what that means."

"And you believe that I am capable of this?"

"Yes." Hermione replied, exasperated. "Otherwise I would not ask it of you."

"Well then," Snape said quietly after a moment of silence, "I suppose there is nothing I can do but try."

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><p><em>AN: Here is the next chapter! Many thanks for all those who read and reviewed the last one. The site is still being strange and won't let me reply to individual reviews *sigh*. Thanks again, and please do the same for this chapter! _


	7. A Secret In The Forest

_A/N: Many thanks, as always, to those who read and reviewed the last chapter. Here is the next one, a little earlier than usual - please read and let me know what you think! Thanks! :D  
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><p>Although the change in their relationship was subtle, it was most definitely felt by Hermione. Snape had by no means suddenly developed into a fluffy, smiling sort of person, but Hermione felt that he had somewhat relaxed around her. He had begun to join her on her daily walks, when he had the time, and occasionally even joined her for tea in Hagrid's hut. Hermione was surprised to find that they could enjoy a perfectly decent conversation; from debating about articles they had read in academic journals to having deep discussions about literature or history, art or music. Despite knowing that he was an intelligent man, she had had no idea that he was so knowledgeable about so many different kinds of things. She liked to think that he was a little surprised about <em>her <em>knowledge too; at the very least, he did not mock her for asking too many questions or knowing too much.

Hermione stood at the window in Snape's office, her nose almost pressed against the glass as she watched the snow tumbling outside. There was a small group of first years magically building a snowman together, running around and inundating one another with snowballs. Hermione remembered when, not so long ago, she, Ron and Harry had done the same thing; it felt like an entirely different lifetime, watching from a window. Christmas was by far her favourite time of year; whether she was skiing with her parents or celebrating at The Burrow, Hermione had always taken the time to take stock of what she had and be thankful for it. Slowly Hermione turned to look at Snape, who sat at his desk furiously writing letters. It felt strange that, this year, _he_ was really the only thing she did have. Was she grateful? In a way...yes. After all, he had saved her from having to fend for herself, probably prevented her from being captured and killed by the very people she now moved amongst. Hermione would always be grateful for that.

This Christmas would be different to others, Hermione knew. There was bound to be no Christmas tree or festive music, no mince pies or mulled wine – and she was certain there wouldn't be presents. She had no doubt that Snape was the kind of person who preferred to treat Christmas as any other day, who would rather pretend as if nothing was different. They were to spend it at Spinner's End, which did not bode well for comfort and only seemed to heighten Hermione's dread. She had decided that she would do some decorating, in order to make it a more hospitable place; if not to make it more comfortable for them both, but to give her something to do. With a final jab at the paper, Snape rolled up the last scroll and clicked his fingers. A house elf appeared, to which he gave instructions on whom to send the letters to – one was for Lucius, the other for Thicknesse and the third to the Dark Lord himself. He stood up and put on his thick cloak, wrapping his Slytherin scarf around his neck, before turning to Hermione.

"Where are you going?" Hermione asked, turning back to look out of the window.

"I have business to attend to in the village. Would you like to accompany me?" Hermione smiled to herself, before turning to face him.

"Yes, just give me a moment to get my cloak."

Snape stood out in harsh contrast to the snow as they made their way down to the gates; and the picture that he presented amused Hermione. He walked determinedly, his head facing straight forward and his cloak billowing out behind him. She wondered idly how he made himself look so threatening; even after all of those months under the guise of Verity Prince, she still felt a fool when she tried to walk like that. As they arrived at the gate, a carriage was waiting for them at the bottom. All of the others had already left, for many of the students were returning home for the holidays, and so Hermione presumed that this was reserved specifically for them. Snape held her hand as she climbed into it, before following her inside and banging the door to alert the thestrals.

"How many students are staying for Christmas this year?" She asked conversationally, looking out of the window as they rattled their way towards the village.

"There are only twenty students who are to return home." Hermione looked at Snape, raising her eyebrows in surprise. He smirked. "For some reason, parents believe that it is safer for their children to be at Hogwarts. They are, of course, correct." Hermione let out a sigh and returned to staring out of the window. It was pleasant to be out of the school grounds for, although they were beautiful, she often felt as if they were simply a rather gilded cage. Hermione was surprised when the carriage came to a sudden stop at the train station, for she had presumed that Snape's business would be in one of the shops.

There were students gathered on the platform as they boarded the Hogwarts Express, and all of them were avoiding looking at Hermione and Snape. Hermione was not surprised; if she had been in their position, she would not have looked either. As they waited, Neville passed them and Hermione was shocked to see the loathing in his eyes. Even though she knew it was not directed at _her_, she still felt hurt to see a look of such hatred on the face of an old friend. Eventually all of the students boarded, and the train departed in a billow of steam. Hermione could not help but feel wistful, but wish that she too was chugging away from Hogwarts to welcoming parents and a warn home. Her thoughts were distracted, however when through the mist, two masked men appeared. Snape nodded at them in greeting.

"Rodolphus, Wormtail."

"So – so good to see you Severus!" Wormtail chirped. "And – and you too, of course, Miss Prince." Hermione looked up at Snape who simply sneered.

"You have understood the instructions adequately, I trust?"

"Yes!" Rodolphus Lestrange barked. "Let us bloody get on with it!"

"There is no need to be so crass. I believe she is in a carriage towards the back end of the train. Be quick and, Rodolphus, _do_ try not to kill her, otherwise this entire exercise shall be fruitless."

The two men disapparated. Snape remained staring at the spot they had vacated, seemingly lost in thoughtful silence. Hermione could sense that there was some kind of underlying emotion there, that he was refraining to express.

"What was that about?" She asked, almost conversationally.

"I shall explain at a later time, perhaps when we are not so exposed." Snape began to walk, leaving Hermione no choice but to keep speed with him. They did not return to the carriage, for it had disappeared, but continued to walk further into the village.

"Aren't we going back to the castle?"

"No. We shall go to Spinner's End now; your things have been collected by the house elves and shall be sent there directly. But first, I am quite in need of a stiff drink."

Hermione followed Snape to the Hog's Head, which was just as dirty as she remembered it to be. They took a seat in the corner, but not until Snape had magically cleaned the table and fixed the rickety chairs. Hermione sat down nervously, afraid that the seat would collapse and disappear from beneath her; Snape seemed to find this amusing for, as he walked towards the bar, he had an amused smirk upon his face. Hermione watched as he leant against the bar, confused as the dirty-looking barman leant over and whispered something in Snape's ear. He waved his wand and two glasses placed themselves in front of Snape, before magically filling with Firewhiskey and a deep red wine. Snape gave a quick glance around the room before pushing some coins towards the barman including, Hermione noticed, a small slip of parchment. Snape bowed his head slowly, before carrying the drinks back over to the table.

A clock somewhere in the pub chimed as Hermione took a mouthful of the wine, surprised to taste that it was of good quality. It was strange for her to be drinking so early in the morning, but she realised that they were alone excepting the barman. Snape polished off his drink and slammed the glass down before, seconds later, it filled itself up again. Hermione leant over the table towards him, and whispered.

"Who is that?" She hissed. Snape glanced towards him, before staring carefully at Hermione. He was clearly deliberating whether or not to tell her, before giving a sigh.

"Aberforth Dumbledore. He is co-operative, he helps with...wider concerns." Hermione looked over at the grumpy old man, noticing for the first time the familial resemblance to the former Headmaster. He was rougher, however, a little gruffer than Albus Dumbledore had ever been. After a few moments' silence, Hermione whispered again.

"What happened at the train station? Who was Lestrange not to kill?" Snape quickly licked his thin lips, before leaning back and covering his eyes. Hermione noticed that he did that a lot.

"Miss Lovegood."

"No!" She gasped. "You _let _them take her? Severus, I know that her father has been printing things, but surely – "

"What? Surely I should save her from punishment, thus giving away my alliances?"

"I understand that you need to keep up the act, but surely this isn't important? I don't see how you can continue acting like this, how you can _willingly _send them to get her when you're supposed to be on our side!"

"That is why _I _am doing this job. If you had control for just one moment you would get us killed. Gryffindors are far too sentimental – if anything, that will be Potter's one weakness."

They finished their drinks in silence. Hermione was furious with Snape; she believed that he could have found some other way to punish Luna's father, that he should have tried harder to prevent them from taking her. She was convinced that nothing good would come of Luna's capture, and that he would be responsible for it. They used the fireplace in the pub to floo to Spinner's End. Hermione let out a dejected sigh when she saw the dust that covered every surface; with a quick wave of her wand, she got rid of most of it. Snape looked at her, seeming almost a little offended.

"I have asthma." Hermione snapped. They went into the kitchen, where Snape immediately lit a fire before falling into one of the chairs. Hermione sat in the one opposite, crossing her ankles, and stared at him. They sat in silence, seemingly battling to see who would surrender first. It was Snape.

"Whatever is interesting you about my appearance so? You have scarcely taken your eyes from me, these two minutes past." Hermione huffed and folded her arms.

"I just cannot understand why you didn't try to find another way." She said, shaking her head, before standing to her feet. "I'm going for a walk."

"I would prefer..."

"I don't care what you would _prefer_. I am going out."

As she stepped out onto the cobbled street, Hermione let out a juddering breath that she did not realise she had been holding. The village was just as miserable as she remembered it to be; just as dirty and dark, buried beneath the ominous shadow of the factory. Hermione realised, as she walked, that she had learnt something new about Snape that day. People had always said many things about him, but Hermione had always believed that he was intrinsically strong, that nothing could phase or shock him. It came as a surprise to her that he was just as weak as anyone, perhaps even more so than most due to his obsessive love for Lily Potter. It shattered the image of the most feared Professor of Hogwarts, making him more human and understandable. She was glad of it, of course, but it unnerved her slightly. Hermione did not know her way through the village, and so simply wandered haplessly through the streets. She eventually stumbled upon a park, which was very familiar despite the fact that she had not spent much time in the actual village. As she sat on one of the swings, Hermione recalled that it was the park from Snape's memory. The swing she sat on was the one that Lily Evans had sat on, all those years ago when she first met Snape.

For some unfathomable reason, this fact made her both curious and uncomfortable. She knew things about Harry's mum, things that he would desperately want to know were he given a chance. Harry would have been thrilled to know that his mum had been there; he would have used every moment as one to remember and imagine. Instead, she had come there to sulk. With a sigh, she gripped hold of the metal chains and pulled herself backwards. Once she was stood on the very tips of her toes, she let go and felt herself swing forwards. Backwards and forwards she went, kicking her legs higher each time and revelling in the height and speed. She tossed her head back and laughed loudly, enjoying the chance to just be _normal_.

The laughter died, however, when she swung backwards and Professor Snape came into view. He was simply standing there stiffly, arms by his sides and his head facing towards her. She came to an abrupt halt, no longer smiling or laughing, as she tried to discern how he felt by inspecting his emotionless face.

"I thought you were going to jump." He said suddenly, sounding almost amused, although Hermione was almost certain that he couldn't be. She let go of the chains, wiping her hands on her robes. It felt as if she was sullying something sacred, as if she was disrespecting holy ground. Hermione swallowed.

"I was just…I…"

"You are terribly like her." Hermione closed her mouth, not daring to move or breathe. Her heart was hammering so loudly, she was almost certain that he must have been able to hear it.

As Hermione looked at him, she couldn't help but be reminded of the child Snape that she had seen in his memories. Even thirty years later, he still managed to look uncomfortable and out of place. The smock had been replaced by robes and, of course, he was taller and older – but the same self-conscious, surly Snape remained.

"I'm sorry." She whispered, uncertain as to what she was apologising for. Snape ignored her and stepped forwards, until he was standing remarkably close to Hermione. She tilted her head upwards to look at him.

"You have always reminded me of her." He admitted. "From the very moment you came into my classroom, in fact. Your mannerisms are just like hers – the same confidence, the same intelligence, the eager need to please...You have only grown more like her as the years have passed. You have even gone as far to associate yourself with a _Potter_."

Hermione stuck her chin out defiantly, and Hermione was surprised to see him physically balk at the action. Perhaps that was one of the mannerisms to which he had referred, but she could not be sure.

"I like to think there is a very prominent difference between me and Lily Potter, Severus." She said breathlessly.

"Oh?" She knew that what she was going to say could potentially ruin everything, and she was not entirely sure if she had the confidence to actually say it. However, she took a deep breath to calm herself.

"I would _never _turn a back on a friend."

He stared at her blankly and, for a second, Hermione had to fight the urge to run from him. Neither of them moved nor spoke for a long moment, until Snape slowly bowed his head. Hermione let out a small sigh of relief, before standing slowly to her feet.

"We probably look ridiculous." Hermione blurted suddenly. "Standing out here, looking so dark and miserable and wearing these robes." Snape looked down at himself, before his eyes drifted from Hermione's feet up to her hair. Eventually, he gave a small amused smirk.

"Quite." His voice sounded a little gruff, but his tone was pleasant. "I often forget how odd this must look to the unsuspecting muggle." At that moment, as if emphasising his point, an old lady doddered by walking her dog. She stopped to stare at them both with a mixture of revulsion and curiosity. "Good morning madam." Snape said, in a friendly way that surprised even Hermione. The woman suddenly became flustered, before tugging on her dog's lead and hobbling away as fast as she could.

"I don't think I'll ever get used to scaring people that way." Hermione admitted. Snape simply raised an eyebrow.

"Take it on good authority that you get accustomed to it. Sometimes, it can even be useful."

Although their Christmas day could be described as Spartan, it was not as terrible as Hermione anticipated. She had procured a turkey from the local supermarket, along with the usual trimmings, and had managed to cook them a decent meal. Snape had even permitted her to decorate the house, although they only had a modest tree – no streamers or a wreath. Hermione found that, even though it was not her usual Christmas, she rather enjoyed it.

After the meal, Snape managed to fix the old television and together they watched the Queen's speech. It was not particularly interesting, and Hermione found herself drifting off to sleep. She was jolted awake by Snape, however, who spoke aloud for the first time since they had begun to eat.

"You must not allow yourself to get too tired, for I have yet to give you your Christmas gift." Hermione gasped in shock.

"I completely forgot!"

"You needn't worry, I was not expecting anything." Hermione laughed, feeling her cheeks burning a little. She wasn't certain what she felt embarrassed about, but nevertheless she blushed.

"I've got a gift to give you, but I simply forgot. I'll be back in a moment; I just need to collect it."

She returned a moment later with the small parcel. It was wrapped in brown paper, for that was all she could afford, and tied with string, but she expected that Professor Snape would admire the simplicity. He untied the string without ceremony, before inspecting the small gift.

"What is it?" He asked bluntly. Hermione stared at him for a moment, feeling more than a little offended.

"Well I _apologise_, Severus, but as I'm not permitted to leave the castle, I have nowhere to purchase a gift from! I made it myself and, if you _must_ know, it is a paperweight!" She felt a little embarrassed once she had finished that little tirade, for she was quite flustered. Hermione had been quite impressed with herself when she had finished. She had carved it into a snake from a stone she had collected in the forest, and had even charmed it to hiss whenever anyone undesirable approached it.

"It is an impressive bit of magic, Miss Granger." Snape said, lifting the object and narrowing his eyes. Hermione watched with a small smile as he stroked the head of the serpent, and it slowly began to uncoil. "I apologise for insulting you. Thank you for the gift."

Hermione sat back smugly and folded her arms, as he placed the paperweight onto the table. She waited expectantly for him to produce a parcel for her. Her ideal gift would be some obscure text that only he could procure – she would certainly be pleased if that was what he had got for her, although really she was simply grateful he had even thought of it. After a moment, however, he still did not appear to have anything for her.

"I don't mean to be rude, but – "

"Your gift cannot be wrapped, Miss Granger, but worry not – I am certain you shall appreciate it all the same."

"Then what –?"

"At midnight, we shall wear our warmest clothing and travel to a mystery location."

"But I don't understand, what is my gift?" Snape stared at her blankly, a smile threatening to spread across his face with a quirk of his lips.

"A surprise."

Hermione was somewhat disenchanted when, at midnight, Snape took her arm and took her on side-along apparation to a forest. It was certainly not what she had been expecting, although with hindsight, she should have known that it would be something like this. Mysterious, unpredictable and a little vexing – much like the man himself. They walked carefully and quietly between the trees; for some reason, Snape would not let her cast _Lumos_, so they walked in the complete darkness. Suddenly he stopped, leaning against a tall thick tree. He pushed Hermione to stand behind him, and she peeped out from behind his arm.

"I think this is the place."

Hermione waited with bated breath. She had no idea what she was going to see – it could have been anything. As they stood in the silence, Hermione heard a faint rustling and the sound of masculine voices; she realised that her heart was pounding. Hermione could not restrain her gasp when, as though from nowhere, Harry and Ron materialised in front of them. She clutched onto Snape's arms, digging her fingernails in his flesh to keep herself from speaking aloud. Ron. Harry. They stood less than a few metres away from them, so close that Hermione could have stepped forwards and touched them. She could not believe how different they looked; their hair was so long, and they clearly had not shaved in weeks. She could not subdue her natural instinct to want to mother them.

Her feet seemed to be moving of their own accord, for she felt herself stepping out of the shadow towards them. Before she could, Snape reached out and grabbed her by the waist, pulling her roughly backwards and holding her fast against him. She felt her face burning with embarrassment, as she realised that her body was pressed against the length of his. He was warm and comfortable and, when he looked down at her, Hermione could tell that he too was embarrassed. He did not let go of her, however, as they waited.

"Are you sure you heard the wards go off?" Ron asked groggily. "I didn't hear anything."

"That's because you were snoring your head off. I'm certain I heard something."

Carefully Snape drew his wand. He must have cast a silent spell, for a silvery burst of light erupted and a shining doe stood in front of them. He flicked his wand and the doe moved closer to the boys, who were both staring at it as though in a trance.

"Bloody hell." Ron mumbled. The doe moved slowly past them, travelling further into the forest. "Reckon we should follow it?"

"Of course!" Harry barked. "Don't be such an idiot."

Slowly the boys followed the doe, with Hermione and Snape carefully trailing behind. Snape still had his arm fixed tightly around her waist, making it somewhat difficult to walk straight, but he was warm and his proximity seemed to calm her. Eventually they came to a large frozen lake, and in the middle of it was the familiar sword of Godric Gryffindor. Hermione's eyes widened and she turned to look at Snape. To her surprise, he reached towards her and gently placed an index finger on her lips to silence her. She gasped slightly, before he motioned with his head for her to look at the lake. Harry had, rather stupidly, gone on to the ice to get the sword. It was slowly beginning to crack, causing Harry to lose his balance, and suddenly he fell into the icy depths. Ron began to panic, as Hermione knew he would, and scrambled onto the remaining ice to help Harry and the sword out.

Once they were out of the water, the boys stared at the sword for a moment, both of them shivering with the cold. Harry removed a heavy locket (the one, Hermione presumed, that they had stolen from Umbridge at the Ministry) from around his neck, before holding it out towards Ron.

"You destroy it." Ron blinked twice.

"I can't do it, Harry! You do it!" Harry sighed, rolling his eyes.

"Just get it over with Ron. You deserve to destroy it. I'll open the locket and, as soon as I have, you stab it." Ron seemed to brace himself with the sword, as Harry carefully opened the necklace. He lifted the sword above his head, ready to bring it down, but was stopped as a smoky figure emerged from it. It was Voldemort; Hermione could see that even from where she stood. She whimpered quietly, burying her face in Snape's cloak so she would not have to see.

"She is dead." The image of Voldemort hissed. "I killed her. She is dead."

"Just do it, Ron!" Harry cried. "Stab it!"

Hermione looked briefly, to see the smoky figure suddenly morph. She gasped again as it became an image of her, led on the floor with blood streaking her face and a look of agony in her eyes.

"Save me!" She screamed. "Save me Ron! He's going to kill me! _RON_!" Ron was crying silently, tears trickling down his cheeks, as Harry tried to distract him.

"It's not her, Ron! It's only pretend; he's trying to stop you! Stab it _for _her, Ron! Do it!" Hermione felt a surge of pride as Ron viciously stabbed the locket with the sharp tip of the blade.

He staggered backwards, allowing the sword to clang to the floor whilst toppling to the ground himself. Harry ran over and placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. Ron looked pale and sickly, with a thin sheen of sweat covering his face. He swallowed deeply, before looking up at Harry.

"What if – what if that was real?"

"It wasn't." Harry asserted firmly, although Hermione did not know how he could be sure. "

"I miss her, Harry." She noted with horror that he was genuinely crying, sobbing as he leant forwards. "I wish we hadn't left her."

"Me too... But she'll be alright. She'll be doing something worthwhile, wherever she is, and she'll no doubt still have her head buried in her books. She knows how to look after herself does Hermione."

Harry helped Ron to his feet, and they slowly returned back to the clearing, walking directly past Hermione and Snape who were concealed in the thick darkness of the forest. Hermione was shaking, but she was not entirely sure why. She looked up at Snape who, to her surprise, gave her a genuine smile of sympathy; Hermione bit her lip and looked away, feeling her eyes well with tears. Suddenly Ron stopped, so close to Hermione that it was almost unbearable; his face was bright and excited.

"What if it was _her_, Harry? What if it was Hermione who sent that Patronus?" Harry looked momentarily thrilled, but his face dropped.

"It can't be. Her patronus is an otter, remember? That was a doe."

Hermione could no longer contain herself. She let out a sob, before turning to bury her face in Snape's cloak to muffle it. He patted her back tentatively, as though to try and comfort her, and the sensation of his hand upon her back seemed to leave a hot trail in its wake.

"Merry Christmas, Miss Granger." He whispered deeply. Hermione looked up at him and smiled broadly, despite the tears that still lingered upon her eyelashes.

"_Thank you_, Severus."


	8. A Simple Fairytale

Hermione knew without a doubt, from that night onwards, that she and Snape were friends. It was a strange feeling to know that they, two people who had never really seemed likely to do so, had managed to find a real common ground and, on Hermione's part at least, a strange sort of fondness. She would never admit it aloud, for fear of seeming a little crazy, but Hermione rather liked it when they could both sit in silence together – Snape's head bent over some letter or another and Hermione's nose buried in a book. During her friendship with Harry and Ron, there had never really been any times when they had just been _quiet_; the boys always needed to talk, always needed to make noise. But Snape...theirs was a kind of friendship that Hermione had never really experienced; it was more mature and, although it pained her a little to admit it, more equal. They had real things in common, beyond school and the threat of Voldemort – they could _talk _about things.

Hermione could never really express how grateful she was to Snape for the gift he had given her – she didn't really know how to properly go about it. If she expressed her true sentimental reasons for being grateful, Hermione knew that Snape would have been repulsed and likely angered by it; she could just imagine him accusing her of 'ridiculous sentimentality' and telling her to leave him alone. Instead, she simply decided to keep quiet about her gratitude, and the next few days passed without any mention of Christmas Day. The acknowledgement of their new friendship, however, seemed to drastically alter the atmosphere in Spinner's End. It was no longer such an unwelcoming place; in fact, Hermione was almost growing fond of the small terraced house. She spent the whole of Boxing Day rearranging the furniture, moving the seats and the television back in the unused room at the front of the house. Snape seemed more bemused than thankful for Hermione's unusual interest in the house, but she was not discouraged by it.

In the evening of Boxing Day, Hermione decided to prepare a meal for both of them. She had never really had the opportunity to cook before, but she enjoyed shopping for the ingredients and making the meal, and prepared an entire three course dinner. After dinner, Snape went to sit in the newly refurbished sitting room, whilst Hermione piled up their dishes and cutlery in the small sink. She rolled up her sleeves and began to wash them; although she could have done it by magic, Hermione still preferred to do the washing up by hand, she thought the plates were cleaner that way. After half an hour or so of washing the plates, humming Christmas carols quietly to herself, Hermione threw down the dishcloth and walked through to the sitting room. She came to a sudden stop in the doorway, when she realised that Snape was asleep in a chair by the fireplace. Hermione could not help but stare at him. In all of the years she had known him, she had never seen him look so relaxed, not even in the past few months. He almost looked like a different person. The worry lines on his face seemed to have gone, and his permanent scowl was replaced by a look of calm serenity. His arm was hanging from the chair, his long tapered fingers extended gracefully towards the ground. For some odd reason, she wanted to touch his face, to see if his skin was smooth or rough, to feel the bump in his nose beneath her fingertip. Hermione jumped a little when he stirred, muttering something under his breath, but he did not wake. Tentatively, she stepped closer. He still did not wake.

Seeing him like that, Hermione could understand why Lily had perhaps found him attractive. He was not handsome in the normal sense, but he seemed to have 'something' about him. Perhaps it was his intelligence, or the fact that his power was almost tangible. He was somewhat heroic, in a bit of a strange way. Hermione smiled, feeling her cheeks burning red, and mentally mocking herself for thinking about Professor Snape that way. If Harry or Ron could have heard her, they would have been sick or carried her off to St Mungo's. Sighing, she sat down in the chair opposite him and picked up that day's newspaper. She had read it once already, but it had become a habit to read through it several times; it was the only way that one could begin to figure out the truthfrom the printed lies.

"No…I cannot…" He was muttering in his sleep again, but this time his words were distinguishable. Hermione shuddered at the sound of his voice. In the mugginess of his sleep, the words almost sounded sensuous, lascivious even. It was impossible to deny that Severus Snape was truly gifted with his voice. Deciding that she had been distracted, Hermione shut the newspaper and placed it on the floor. She hesitated about what to do. Should she leave him to his sleep, or wake him? It was one of those difficult issues with Snape; his reactions were always unpredictable. Sighing, Hermione waved her wand and conjured a blanket, magically laying it over the top of him. She walked to the doorway, turning back to look at him one last time, before flicking the light switch and plunging the room into darkness.

Two days later, Hermione was in the sitting room, using magic to transfer the books from an untidy pile in the kitchen to a new pair of bookcases. A particularly intriguing-looking book had landed in her hands, and Hermione was idly thumbing through it when the door opened. She looked up to see Snape standing there, wearing his outdoor robe and looking slightly disgruntled.

"I have an errand to do." He stated. "You may stay here, if you wish." Hermione slipped the book onto the shelf by hand, before wiping the dust from it onto her robes.

"I would like to come with you, if you don't mind."

"I do not mind."

"Where are we going?" Hermione asked.

"To visit Xenophilius Lovegood, Miss Lovegood's father. I am to negotiate with him on behalf of the Dark Lord."

"I've never met Luna's father before. I can only presume he's an..._interesting _type of man." Snape smirked.

"He is, I believe, what you might call a nutter." Hermione laughed.

"Yes, well, I was trying to be a little more polite..."

The Lovegood house was just as odd as Hermione had expected it to be. After all, someone as quirky as Luna Lovegood could not live in a simple house like everybody else; it wouldn't have been right at all. It looked like a tower, surrounded by a rickety fence and tall trees; it gave off the impression that it was magically sound whilst, oddly, also seeming as if it was about to crumble at your feet. Snape marched straight up to the door, blasting the gate open with his wand, and knocked heavily three times. The door was opened by a man who was undoubtedly Luna's father. He had tufty white hair which came to his shoulders, and his eyes were slightly crossed; he looked very much like a mad scientist or a crazy recluse. Hermione looked up at Snape, who looked positively furious for no apparent reason. She supposed it was all part of his image, and rearranged her face into an equally disgruntled expression.

"Ah…ah…Severus…"

"You should refer to me as Headmaster Snape, Xenophilius."

"Of course! I was just…ah…taken by surprise." He leant towards Hermione, blinking his big eyes at Hermione. "Who is this?"

"My cousin, Miss Prince, but that is none of your concern. Let us inside, Mr Lovegood."

They followed him inside and directly upstairs, where they sat down in a much cluttered living room. Severus looked around the room with distaste, as Xenophilius attempted to tidy a little, muttering under his breath. Hermione looked around in interest, locating his printing press in the corner, as well as a very odd-looking bust wearing a headdress. One particular item which shocked her, however, was a horn that had been tacked to the wall as an ornament.

"Mr Lovegood!" Hermione exclaimed. "Whatever are you doing with that Erumpent Horn?" Both Severus and Xenophilius turned to look at it; Snape with a look of abject horror, and the older man looking slightly put out.

"My dear that is the horn of a Crumple-Horned Snorlack."

"No it isn't!" She shrieked. "Don't you realise how dangerous it is? It could explode!" Luna's father sighed.

"You must listen to those who know more than you, miss. You are far too outspoken for your own good – I, of all people, should be able to tell you that! The horn was going to be a Christmas gift for…for Luna."

Hermione felt a twinge of pity for him. Although he seemed to be raving mad, he appeared to be lonely and lost without his daughter. She supposed that Luna must have been his only company in that house, the only person to whom he was close. Hermione looked at Snape, unsurprised to see that he remained sullen, but his eyes occasionally flicked to the horn anxiously.

"That is why you're here isn't it?" Xenophilius whispered desperately. "To talk about Luna."

"Indeed. I am here to negotiate. Your daughter is currently safe, Mr Lovegood, and no harm shall come to her if you follow our simple request."

"What do I have to do? I won't join you know! I won't!" Snape smirked cruelly.

"As yet that is not what I am requesting of you, but soon you will not have any such choice." Xenophilius muttered something unintelligible under his breath. "We want you to stop printing in support of Potter." Lovegood looked up, his eyes wide and sparkling with tears.

"That's it? That's all I have to do to get my Luna back?"

"Once you have printed anti-Potter articles for a certain amount of time, Miss Lovegood shall be returned safely."

Lovegood looked immensely relieved, and Hermione would have smiled were it not for the image she had to portray. She was surprised when, suddenly Snape leapt to his feet. Hermione did the same, following as Severus charged towards the stairs. She stopped suddenly before descending, however, when she saw something strange on the wall. It was the symbol she had seen that night, in Godric's Hollow.

"What is that symbol, sir?" She asked. She had seen it repeated several times, all over the house; it had been on the cover of a book, embroidered onto a quilt that was hung over the back of the sofa, painted above their fireplace on the wall of the house. She had seen it on the gravestone, that night in Godric's Hollow.

"Excuse my cousin, Mr Lovegood, she never ceases with her pestering." Severus muttered; he raised an eyebrow at Hermione, but she simply smiled.

"Please tell me. I would very much like to know."

"Well, my dear… that is the sign of the Deathly Hallows."

"_Verity_." Snape barked. Hermione had not heard such a tone in his voice for a long time, but its message was clear; she was not to ask any more questions. "I do not thank you to put _nonsense _into my cousin's head, Mr Lovegood. Come along, we are leaving."

When they arrived back in Spinner's End, Hermione flopped into one of the chairs and folded her arms. Snape sat opposite and picked up a book that was balanced precariously on the arm; it seemed that he was determined to ignore her. Hermione gave a sigh, before leaning over in her chair.

"What _are_ the Deathly Hallows, and why are you so keen to prevent me from hearing about them?" Snape turned the page, neither looking up nor answering her question. "Severus, you can't ignore me."

"I do not wish to have this discussion with you. I will simply say that Xenophilius' obsession with the tale of the Deathly Hallows is nothing but a ridiculous flight of fancy. You needn't concern yourself with it."

"If it is so insignificant, why won't you tell me?" Hermione asked, arching an eyebrow. Snape gave a disgruntled sigh.

"Because I lack the patience! If you are so intent on discovering what they are, perhaps you ought to indulge yourself by reading some wizarding fairytales."

"The Tales of Beedle the Bard? I inherited the book from Dumbledore, but couldn't discern any reason why. I could – " Hermione gave a sigh. "I left the book in the bag that I packed for Ron and Harry... Do you have a book of these stories?" A simple look was enough to tell Hermione that no, he did not. She sighed. "Well I'm going to go and buy one." Snape snapped his book shut.

"And where, pray tell, do you expect to find such a book in a muggle village?"

"I'm going to go to Diagon Alley." Hermione said confidently. "We've long since established that my disguise is convincing, and I feel safe enough to go out alone."

"No." Snape said firmly. "It is far too dangerous." Hermione stood up.

"I understand what you're trying to do Severus and, to some extent, why...but I'm going to go to Diagon Alley this afternoon." She turned and left the room, before disapparating with a gentle pop.

The familiar bustle of Diagon Alley thrilled Hermione, sending goosebumps up and down her arms. She could not help but smile as she walked down the street, turning her head from side to side to take in the various shops. Coming to a stop outside Flourish & Blotts, Hermione took the opportunity to stop and look at the shop. She tilted her head upwards, memories of all the times she had previously been there flooding her mind. With another smile, she ducked inside. Hermione quickly found a copy of The Tales of Beedle the Bard.

"Excuse me," Hermione said whilst paying for the book, "could you tell me which story tells the tale of the Deathly Hallows?" The shop assistant peered down at her from over his glasses, a confused expression on his face.

"Begging your pardon, miss, but I have no idea what you're talking about." Hermione gave a sigh and clutched the book against her chest.

"Thank you anyway, I suppose. Do you have a reading room, or somewhere quiet I could go?"

They did have a reading room, where Hermione settled herself comfortably in the corner with her new purchase. She was grateful for the fact that she was a very swift reader for, in about three hours, she had finished the entire book. Much to her dismay, the Deathly Hallows had not been mentioned once, and she could only come to the conclusion that Snape had tried to distract her. Whilst a little better informed than she had been before she started, Hermione was a little bitter about the wasted three hours of her time. She returned to Spinner's End with a feeling of happiness at having visited Diagon Alley and disgruntlement at having read a book that was really a waste of time.

When she entered the house, Hermione went into the sitting room and found that Snape was just about to step into the fireplace. He stopped when the door opened and turned to face Hermione, a small flicker of relief passing over his face before his features schooled themselves into their usual sneer.

"Where are you going?" Hermione asked with a frown. "I thought we weren't returning for another week..."

"Potter and Weasley also paid a visit to Lovegood this afternoon." Snape said wearily.

"I'm presuming it didn't go well. Are they alright?"

"Xenophilius, the blithering idiot, decided it would be a good idea to hand them over in return for Luna's safety. Potter and Weasley escaped before they could capture them, the Erumpent horn exploded, and Xenophilius has been taken into custody and was about to be taken to Azkaban."

"Severus, couldn't you – "

"I intervened before they could, however, and insisted that he be kept at Hogwarts instead. You can plague the man with questions to your heart's desire, Miss Granger, and let it be a punishment to him." Snape replied, a small smirk on his face. "I took the liberty of packing your belongings, and they have been sent ahead. Would you care to join me?" He extended his hand towards her and Hermione took it, with a noticeable jump in her heartbeat that Hermione chose to dismiss as nothing important.

When they arrived in the headmaster's office, Xenophilius was already there. He was knelt on the floor in the corner, magically bound to a pillar. At first, Hermione thought he was talking to himself, until she realised that he was chattering politely with Dumbledore, who seemed somewhat amused by their guest. Hermione was thrown to the floor as they arrived at the grate, and she stood up scowling at Snape. He had let go of her hand.

"Mr Lovegood, it truly is _not_ a pleasure to see you twice in one day." Snape drawled sneeringly, to which Dumbledore chuckled.

"You should be more welcoming to your guests, Severus!"

"He is not a guest, he is a prisoner." Snape turned to Hermione and waved a hand at her. "Out of my sight, Verity, whilst I deal with him."

Hermione went for a walk around the school, heading first to Hagrid's hut where she sat alone for a little while. Being back at the school, in the grounds that seemed to stretch out into the distance, made Hermione feel a little miserable. She longed for the intimacy of the house at Spinner's End, the small rooms that she h ad redecorated and made comfortable again; it was no longer the soulless place that she had first gone to, but had become a home. Hermione had enjoyed the domesticity of the holidays, but she knew that it could not continue in a big place such as Hogwarts; there were too many prying eyes, too many places for one to escape to. Hermione looked around the hut and gave a sigh; she probably would have been happier living there than in the Headmaster's rooms.

After sitting in the hut for a while, Hermione returned to the school and paid a visit to the kitchens. She greeted the house elves warmly, before asking questions about the Christmas celebrations at Hogwarts and whether or not they had been a success. Reluctantly, Hermione let them serve her tea and cake, and she was half way through her slice when she felt someone tugging at her robes. She turned to see Dobby standing there, wide-eyed and smiling.

"I is coming from the Headmaster's rooms, and Professor Snape is telling Miss that he is joining her for dinner in the sitting room later."

"Thank you, Dobby." Hermione said. Suddenly, she was struck with an idea. "Say, do you know where Mr Lovegood is being kept?"

"Oh yes! He is being kept in the dungeons miss. Dobby is transfiguring one of the old closets into a room miss."

"Would you take me there?

"Of course. It would be Dobby's honour to!"

Hermione was escorted to the dungeons by Dobby, and was pleased to see that Mr Lovegood's room was really nothing like a cell. It was sparsely furnished, for too much leniency would be noticed, but it was still comfortable; there was a small bed, a desk and chair and a basin in which to wash. Dobby informed Hermione that Mr Lovegood had been given the password to the prefects' bathroom for his personal use, a fact that pleased Hermione greatly. It was a little irrational perhaps, but Hermione couldn't help but think of it as a personal favour to _her_. Snape had seen how disgruntled she was by the treatment of Luna, and she saw this as Severus' way of making amends. She was even a little touched by it, although Hermione struggled to even admit the fact to herself. She sat down on the small chair as Mr Lovegood sat on the edge of his bed, peering at Hermione again in that strange way of his.

"It was very nice of you to come and visit me, Miss, very nice indeed."

"It was no trouble."

"But visitors are very much appreciated at a time like this. My beloved house, you see, has been destroyed!"

"How?" Hermione asked, already knowing full-well what had destroyed his home.

"My Crumple-Horned Snorlack horn seems to have exploded! Very odd, very odd indeed! But lucky, I believe; in fact, I heard once from an African Witch Doctor, that the explosion of a Crumple-Horned Snorlack horn means money will be in your future. Very fortunate indeed!" Hermione simply gave a small smile, believing that it was best to keep the man on side instead of arguing with him. She leaned forwards in her chair, resting her elbow on her knee and her chin on her fist.

"Sir, when we were at your house, you mentioned the Deathly Hallows..."

"Ah yes! And what a tale it is! Indeed, it is the second time I have told it today." Hermione frowned.

"Who else heard the tale?"

"Well, the Potter boy and his redheaded friend of course! They were very keen to learn about them, and seemed very excited once I'd told the tale!"

Hermione's eyes widened. Harry had been asking about the Deathly Hallows? It was then that she understood two things – that the Deathly Hallows _were _of relevance, and that was precisely why Severus had not wanted her to learn about them. Everything was to be revealed at the right time, they had told her. Well, if Harry and learnt about them today...it must have been the right time.

"What do The Tales of Beedle The Bard have to do with the Deathly Hallows...?"

"Well, it is the story of the three brother, of course!"

Hermione listened intently as Xenophilius explained how the wand, cloak and resurrection stone of the fairytale corresponded with the Deathly Hallows, and how the possessor of all three would be a master over death and everyone else. Hermione felt instantly dismayed, realising that Harry would have believed Xenophilius' story to be true. She knew the boys well enough to know that they would believe Harry's invisibility cloak to be the one from the tale, and Harry would probably believe that Voldemort was out hunting the Elder wand, no matter how ridiculous it seemed. As Hermione made her way back to the rooms, she shook her head disappointedly. Snape looked up when she entered, an amused smirk on his face when he saw her disappointed expression.

"Did you find your little visit to Xenophilius Lovegood informative?" He drawled amusedly.

"He's a blithering idiot!" Hermione huffed, passing straight through into the sitting room. "It's nothing but a fairytale to scare the children!"

"Indeed." Snape replied, but Hermione missed the knowing look exchanged between him and the Headmaster as she left the room.

* * *

><p><em>AN: Many thanks to all who reviewed the last chapter - I know I say it every time, but it is appreciated! Please do the same for this one; let me know what you think! :) _


	9. A Confusing Confession

Although Hermione did not get on spectacularly well with Xenophilius Lovegood, she rather enjoyed his presence in the castle. He provided a much-needed burst of liveliness and entertainment, and she found that she could often spend hours in his company, listening to his ridiculous tales about one imaginary creature or another. Severus was evidently amused by Hermione's persistent, although he insisted that he could not understand why she bothered with it. Hermione tried to explain that Xenophilius provided her with a means of escapism, that she could sit there with someone who did not have any pre-judgements about her, and listen to tales that were too extraordinary to be true. In the moments that she wanted rationality or a sensible conversation, that was when she turned to Severus. She told him so, and he seemed to be a little offended by it.

"I have a perfectly good imagination." He told her firmly. "I simply believe there are certain times when one should employ it – it is certainly inappropriate to behave as Lovegood does, babbling whatever he thinks all of the time."

"I think he's fun."

"And I am not?" Hermione thought, initially, that he was joking, but his face showed that he was quite serious.

"Well...I...What I mean to say, is..."

"You need not explain yourself, Miss Granger." He said a little frostily. "Your inability to speak says a lot more than words could."

When the students returned to school, Hermione was overjoyed. She loved to hear the buzzing of chatter in the hallways, even more so now than people seemed to be less interested in her. Thanks to her typically boring ways, nobody could find anything much to gossip about. Hermione was, once again, surprised and touched by something that Snape had done. He had written to Professor Slughorn without telling her and, as a surprise, she was permitted to assist Horace with his first and second year potions classes. Hermione was thrilled to be back in the classroom, and she thoroughly enjoyed being able to impart some of her much treasured knowledge. One lesson at the end of January, a second year Ravenclaw student stopped behind to speak to her.

"Miss…I heard someone talking about the Polyjuice Potion…what is it _really_? They said you could change the way you look! Be any person you wanted to be!"

"They were correct." Hermione said.

"How do you brew it miss?" The boy asked eagerly. "I'd like to give it a try."

Hermione put her things into her satchel absent-mindedly, smiling to herself.

"It is a highly complex potion, Mr Lefroy." She said. "It is certainly not a potion that a second year should be _thinking _about, let alone trying to brew. Now hurry along to your next class – I'm sure Professor McGonagall would not want you to be late." As Hermione opened the door to head out herself, she bumped into an amused-looking Professor Snape. He raised an eyebrow at her, a smirk on his face.

"I could not help but overhear your conversation with Lawrence Lefroy, and I found it odd that you should tell him such a thing."

"Why is that?" Hermione asked, trying to keep her voice impassive. Snape leant forwards, his smirk growing.

"Because I happen to know of one very _forward_ little second year, who not only thought about Polyjuice _in depth_, but also successfully brewed it."

Hermione's mouth fell open, and she ran her hand through her hair. Of course, she had gone to the Hospital Wing after that little mishap, but Madame Pomfrey had sworn never to tell Professor Snape. Hermione had cried for hours about it, begging and pleading until the matron agreed.

"How did you know?" She whispered. "Madame Pomfrey – "

"– wanted to collect her winnings from our bet." It was Hermione's turn to raise an eyebrow.

"I beg your pardon?"

"Following your first year, in which you astonishingly found the solution to a riddle which I had intended to flummox even the greatest of adult wizards, Madame Pomfrey and I had a bet. She bet that you would successfully brew a highly advanced potion in your second year." Hermione pouted.

"I told her in confidence…"

"You needn't worry – she did not manage to collect her bet."

He stalked off towards his rooms, leaving Hermione to run behind him to catch up.

"Why? I did it, didn't I?" He stopped and turned, smirking at her triumphantly.

"You were not successful. You put a cat's hair in it." Hermione gasped as he continued walking, however she stopped him by grabbing his hand. He spun round quickly, as if she had scorched him, and Hermione swiftly dropped his hand.

"But that was only in _my _potion!" She said smugly, pulling herself to her full height. "I didn't mention to Madame Pomfrey that I also made the potion for Harry and Ron. She thought it was a petty little experiment, when really my potion disguised the boys as Crabbe and Goyle, and gained them entry into _your_ beloved common room." Snape gaped at her in a way that was very unseemly and also 'un-Snape-ly'.

"Well…I…"

"So, I do believe you owe Madame Pomfrey her bet." She walked away from him smirking, enjoying the feeling of his eyes following her as she went.

They scarcely saw one another in the following weeks. Snape seemed to get called on more and more; he was always doing something for Voldemort, or in hour-long meetings with Dumbledore. The only time they spoke properly was at breakfast. At lunch and dinnertimes, they were both required to put on an act. Snape was to play the role of the evil Death Eater, and Hermione simply pretended that she was anyone but herself. Her feelings began to unnerve her. It seemed that, without his company, she felt alone and completely useless. With a mother who had always encouraged Hermione to be completely independent from men, the very fact that she was do dependent on Severus sickened her a little. She hated to think of what would happen if he was killed, or had to go away. What would she do then? It was a worry that she brushed under the carpet, filling the times she felt alone with frantic reading and studying.

One evening in the middle of February, Hermione was lounging on the sofa in the sitting room, quietly humming a tune with her eyes closed. She opened them when she heard footsteps on the wooden floor, and saw that Snape was standing in the doorway. He looked a little nervous and, for a moment, Hermione was slightly concerned. She quickly sat upright, tugging at her skirt to make it a little more modest.

"Is everything alright, Severus?" She asked, frowning.

"Yes...quite. I am going to the village for a drink, and wondered if you would like to accompany me." Hermione smiled, suddenly excited at the prospect of escaping the boundaries of the castle.

"I would love to!" She laughed, a little embarrassed at her enthusiasm. "I'm sorry for my excitement, it's just I haven't done something fun like that in _such _a long time!"

They walked down to the village together, before slipping into the Hog's Head. As there was a curfew imposed (a curfew by which she and Snape were not bound), the pub was quiet and they were once again alone with Aberforth Dumbledore. Instead of settling in the corner, this time they sat on the high stools at the bar. Hermione drank a glass of wine as Snape sipped on Firewhiskey, and she watched as he once again passed a note to Aberforth.

"What are you passing on to him?" She whispered quietly. "I saw you last time too."

"You are far too curious than is good for you. One day, it shall get you into trouble."

"I thought it already had." Hermione replied with an arch smile. Snape raised an eyebrow, accompanied by a smirk.

"Indeed. There are not many 13 year olds who would steal from their most frightening Professor or, five years later, invite herself unwelcomed into his home." Hermione laughed.

"Being friends with Harry, I've had no choice but to do what others never would" Hermione admitted. "Curiosity, audacity and just a little bit of nous have been _more_ than necessary throughout my years at Hogwarts."

They continued to drink, their glasses refilling magically as the hours passed on. Aberforth even joined them; taking shots of magical tequila that Hermione did not like the smell of. They talked and laughed about everything and nothing and, for the first time, Hermione truly felt as if she was in the company of a friend. Hermione laughed loudly at some dry, witty comment that Snape had just made, and slapped Snape's arm playfully. He looked at her for a moment, as if deliberating whether or not to react angrily towards her action; he seemed to decide that it was not worth the effort, for he did not respond.

"I am glad you are having fun." He said, his breath tickling the hair that was tucked behind her ear.

"I am!" She replied, giggling slightly. Hermione had never really had much experience with alcohol, and the wine had gone to her head.

"But I had thought that you didn't find my company to be _fun_." Hermione gasped.

"I didn't realise you were still bitter about that! It was months ago!"

"Imagine being told that I found the company of some lunatic old man more appealing than yours. Tell me, how would you respond?"

"I would tell you, quite frankly, that you too are a lunatic!" Hermione giggled.

At midnight, Snape helped her down from her precarious position on the barstool, and together they headed back to the castle. Hermione giggled all the way up the hill, earning herself more than a few chastising looks from Snape. As she walked along, Hermione did not see a tree root that crossed the path, and found herself tripping over it in the dark. Were it not for Snape catching her, she would have tumbled to the ground but, instead, found herself pressed against Snape's chest with his arms around her waist. She stayed there for a moment, her eyes closed and her face buried in his robes; she liked the familiarity of his smell, of the warmth that radiated from him. She was amazed that he stayed so still, that his hands remained splayed on her waist, his fingertips brushing her back. Slowly, Hermione raised her head to look at him, and was surprised to see that he was already staring down at her, an unfamiliar look of fondness on his face. Hermione licked her lips nervously, before giving a breathy sigh.

"Thank you...for catching me." She whispered.

"You are welcome."

Hermione, uncertain and apprehensive, slowly lifted herself to stand on her tiptoes, bringing her face closer to Snape's. She was once again overcome by the desire to touch his face and, tentatively, dragged her fingertip along the length of his jaw. It seemed as if he was frozen, as if all of his faculties had disappeared and he was left with no choice but to stand there and allow her to touch him. Hermione did not think that her heart had ever beaten so quickly, nor had the world turned so quickly before. She felt as if she was on a merry-go-round, her stomach swooping as if she were being spun.

"Severus..."

At the sound of his name, it was almost as if Snape had suddenly regained all of his senses. He pulled away from her quickly, his hand dropping to his sides and his body tensing. Hermione staggered backwards, feeling her cheeks burning furiously. She felt like such a fool, knowing already that she had made a mistake in a moment of complete insanity.

"I think we ought to return to the castle. We shall draw suspicion if we linger here for much longer." He did not wait for her response, but simply turned and began to stride up the hill. Hermione did not even attempt to catch up with him, too mortified to even look at him. Instead she ambled slowly back to school, taking the time to mentally rebuke herself.

Snape was relieved that Hermione was not following him closely, and was glad to have some time alone when he reached the office. He slammed the door shut behind him, leaning against it and screwing his eyes shut. His mind seemed to be stuck between confusion and embarrassment, between frustration and anger. He wanted to hit something. Hard. Letting out a deep breath, he opened his eyes to see Dumbledore staring at him directly, his face empty of any kind of emotion.

"What is it, Severus?" He asked. "You look terrible..."

"I _am_ terrible!" Snape roared. "I have done the worst thing I could ever possibly do!" The other portraits began to wake, staring at him with unbridled curiosity as he began to charge around the office.

"Surely it is not that bad, Severus…"

"My mind has betrayed her, Albus! I have allowed myself to…to…I have betrayed her!"

Albus stared steadily at the man who had once been his student, had been his college and was now his friend. He was truly a man in agony, but Albus knew that there was nothing he could say to stop it. It had been an agony that Severus had lived with every day for a very long time. Severus picked up the small paperweight from the table and clutched it in his hands for a moment. He stroked the head of the snake absent-mindedly, looking at Albus pleadingly.

"What are you talking about, Severus? What is it you have done?"

"Miss Granger…Hermione…she…" He took a breath. "I admired her. I...I _held _her. She is beautiful, and I...I admired her."

"And you feel that, through this, you have betrayed Lily?"

"Of course I do!" Snape cried in anguish. "Not only is it morally wrong – for she is in my care and half my age – but I have betrayed the woman that I _love_."

Albus waited a moment, looking pensively at the scene. The moral implications did not bother Albus (as far as he was concerned, they were irrelevant at such a time when other things were more important) but it pained him that Severus still thought of Lily. She had, after all, been dead for 16 years – and had been in love with someone else for at least three years before that. Albus did not know how to console Severus, for he looked positively beside himself. The only time he had ever seen him like that, was the night that the Potters were murdered. It frightened Albus, for he was powerless and could not do anything to help him.

"You still love her so greatly Severus? Even after all that has passed in these past few months? Still?" Snape sneered up at him.

"Need I prove it to you again? You have seen the evidence."

"But must you really stop living because she does not, Severus?"

"_Yes_." He hissed venomously, "for what else is my life for, but to protect the son she left behind?"

"But what of Hermione?" Dumbledore asked quietly. "_Do _you have feelings for her?"

"Yes!" Snape roared. "I am still a man! But I fear I have given her false hope...I wish, for her sake, that she had never come to me...I know too well the keen sting of longing for someone who cannot love you."

"But Severus, you are free to – "

"I do not wish to speak of this any longer." Snape whispered. "She will soon return."

"Denial is not the best idea, Severus. Perhaps if you – "

"I _said _I do not wish to speak of this. Do not mention a word of this to her Albus, do you hear?" And Severus left the office.

Hermione made her way back to the office slowly, hoping desperately that Snape would have gone to bed by the time she got back. When she arrived at the office, she had started to push open the door, but stopped when she heard angry voices within. Hermione stepped backwards slightly as she heard Snape speak, unable to do anything but stand there helplessly.

"For what else is my life for, but to help the son she left behind?" He hissed. Hermione felt a wave of nausea pass over her. _Lily_. She had never realised, until that moment, just how much Lily permeated his life. Hermione wondered if he would ever be free of her. She heard Dumbledore ask him about her, about whether he had feelings for her, and was taken aback by the answer.

"Yes! I am still a man! I wish, for her sake, that she had never come to me..." Hermione felt cold and her heart pounded, as she waited until Snape had left the office. After a moment, she pushed open the door and stepped inside, closing it quietly behind her.

"Hermione –" Dumbledore started.

"Please," She said quietly, "I'd really rather just forget about it all. I heard at the door...I couldn't help it really."

"He will come to realise soon enough, Hermione, that he needs to learn to live again. All you need is patience..."

"We all have greater concerns at the moment, sir." Hermione admitted. "And I...I don't think Severus will ever change his mind, nor do I think that it's my place to tell him that he has to."

Hermione did not linger in the office, but instead went through to her room. She led on the bed, still fully-clothed and stared at the ceiling, her eyes following the pattern of the ceiling and her mind buzzing with thoughts. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, surprised when sleep came over her easily and swiftly.

* * *

><p><em>AN: So things have finally stepped up a notch between Snape and Hermione! Many thanks to all those who reviewed the last chapter, please let me know what you think of this one. This morning I had a German translation exam and, as part of it, I was required to translate the first page of Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone from English in to German - a pleasant surprise when I opened the paper! :) Anyway, many thanks again and let me know what you think!_


	10. An Inevitable Conclusion

Neither of them discussed what happened that night, but it lingered between them like a thick fog that would not dissipate. Snape furiously pushed it from his mind; determined that he would not dwell on thoughts of her in his arms, or the things that Albus had said to him. For Hermione, however, it was the only thing she _could _think about. Thoughts of him and their situation sloshed around her mind, and she continuously repeated things that he had said to her, and things that she had said to him. She reminded him of Lily, that much she knew, and she could not help but wonder how much that contributed to his supposed feelings towards her. She could not decide if she was bitter about it or ambivalent, devastated that something would not happen or relieved that nothing ever could.

Hogwarts had been quiet too – oddly so – and it only seemed to heighten the tension between them. The students hardly spoke anymore, petrified of being punished by the Carrows, and no major event in the war had happened. There had been no sightings of Harry, no more manoeuvres of Voldemort. But this was far from reassuring; it only worried Hermione more. She felt even more isolated now that they had a semblance of peace, now that she could not even turn to Snape. During the day she did not stray from the potions room, her visits to Xenophilius were only brief, and in the evenings she withdrew to her bedroom. Snape did not seem to mind; he was even more distracted and on edge than her. The atmosphere in their rooms was tense, but Hermione was not certain how that could be changed.

"I'd like to eat dinner here tonight." She said to Snape suddenly, as they passed in the sitting room one morning. He stopped and turned to look at her for a moment, one eyebrow raised.

"I'll have the house elves send your meal up."

"Eat with me." She blurted a little desperately. Snape shifted uncomfortably for a moment.

"I must eat in the Great Hall." He said, before turning on his heels and leaving the room.

Hermione ate alone as she had said she would, miserably making her way through shepherd's pie, and wishing that she had someone to keep her company. She was even tempted to go through to the office and eat in there, just so she could chatter with the portraits, but knew that Dumbledore would try to engage her in a conversation about Snape or simply just look at her with eyes full of pity. She tried to eat her dessert of rhubarb crumble, but found that she simply had no appetite. As she pushed it away with a grunt of disgust, the door was flung open and Snape came charging into the sitting room. He looked frantic as he rushed into his bedroom, before emerging moments later with his Death Eater mask and cloak. Hermione jumped to her feet in concern; she knew that something serious had happened, that this was different than usual. .

"What is it?" Hermione asked anxiously. "Is it Harry?"

"Yes!" Snape turned to face her, and gripped her shoulders menacingly. "We have all been summoned, because someone has got Potter!"

The blood drained from Hermione's face, and she felt herself sway on the spot. It was truly unthinkable that they had found Harry…they were not ready for the war; she knew that Harry would not be ready. She voiced this feeling to Snape, who simply sneered at her.

"If his captors are secure enough to press the mark, there may not even _be _a war! The Dark Lord shall be on his way there too…I must leave." Hermione stared, dumbstruck, as he let go of her and left the room.

Almost without thinking, Hermione followed him. She ran out of the office, sprinting down the corridors in pursuit of him as he made his way out into the grounds and down towards the gate. As he made to go through it, he turned to see that Hermione had followed him.

"What are you doing?" He demanded. "Go back inside."

"I'm coming with you!" Her voice echoed around the grounds, and Hermione was surprised to hear the desperate plea contained within it. She saw in his face that he heard it too, and he touched her arm gently.

"No. It is too dangerous. I could be taken anywhere in the worldwhen I touch this mark. The Dark Lord will be there. It is too dangerous for you."

"I've seen him before!" She pleaded. "_Please _Severus!"

"No. I simply cannot allow you to put yourself in so much danger."

Hermione knew instantly what she was about to do. As Snape pressed his wand to the Mark, she leapt forwards and clung to the front of his robes. The look of rage on his face was unmistakeable, even as they apparated to the undisclosed location. She knew that his anger would be unparalleled; in fact, she was rather more afraid of _him _than she was of the room of Death Eaters they were travelling to. When they stopped, Hermione was flung unceremoniously to her feet.

"You _stupid _girl! You foolish, _foolish _child!" He snatched ruthlessly at her hand, dragging her to her feet. Hermione stared at him defiantly, her chin jutted upwards and her brows furrowed. For the first time in weeks he looked her in the eye, and her heart began to hammer, her stomach to flip. She was keenly aware that he was still holding her hand, that she could feel his skin beneath her fingers. "How am I to keep you safe if you insist upon ignoring me?"

"The suggestion that I ignore you is ridiculous. I spend more time listening to _you _than I do anyone else, because at your insistence I never _speak _to anyone else! I gave up so much – you seem to forget it!"

"It was you who chose to come to me. I have only done as you requested. In fact, I have done more than is required of me. Putting _my _life at risk for _you_, simply because – " He stopped; straightening his back and glaring down at her menacingly.

"Because of what?" She whispered, subconsciously leaning closer to him. They both knew the real reason they were arguing, why they were both so impassioned about what had just happened.

Someone cleared their throat behind them, distracting both of them from their row. Hermione whipped round to see Bellatrix leaning in the doorframe. She was watching their discourse with a mocking smirk on her face, her dark menacing eyes scanning over both of them.

"Lover's tiff?" She trilled, cackling. "Thought you would turn up at the good news, Snape. You always did like to take a share of others' glory."

"I hardly think you played a part in this, Bellatrix. Aren't the Malfoys on house arrest?" The witches thin lips snapped shut, and she snarled nastily.

"You're hardly doing anything _either_. You just sit up there in your castle all day, lording it over the rest of us like you're something special."

Hermione was certain that her tirade would have continued, were it not for the shouted demands of Lucius Malfoy from the next room. Bellatrix jerked her head, and Severus followed her. He had still not let go of her hand, and so Hermione had no choice but to go with them too. They walked down the long corridor along which hung the portraits of the Malfoy ancestors, and each of them were cheering triumphantly. She felt sick at the very idea that Harry and Ron were hurt; what if they were already dead, what if it was already over? Would Snape continue to care for her if it was, or would he hand her over? Snape led her into the room from the Death Eater meeting, and Hermione saw that the room was full of Death Eaters. Her attention was distracted, however, by the muffled pleas for help that came from the corner. Slowly she turned and saw, with horror, her two dearest friends gagged and bound. Something terrible had happened to Harry's face; he was barely recognisable, but she would be able to recognise him anywhere. Dean Thomas, she noted with a jolt, was also there, and a goblin who she did not know.

Fenrir Greyback stalked around the group, baring his teeth and sniffing the air around them. He was visibly excited at the prospect of having captured Harry, and the others in the room were scarcely less so. Lucius Malfoy looked as though it was the best day of his life – she supposed he wanted to take all of the glory, get back into the Dark Lord's favour. Narcissa stood by the fire with Draco, an arm lovingly placed around his shoulder. Hermione knew that Draco was scared – their sham of a friendship had taught her enough to be able to recognise it. Bellatrix broke the tense silence of the room suddenly, gasping with absolute horror. Hermione followed her gaze, and realised that Greyback was clutching Godric's sword.

In a blur of movement, Bellatrix lurched forwards and thrust her wand against his throat. Hermione knew only too well how frightening that was, and she gave a shudder of disgust.

"_Where did you get this sword_?" She hissed. Greyback struggled, so she prodded the wand harder. "_Where did you find it? Snape sent it to my vault in Gringotts_!"

"_It was in their tent!_" Greyback barked. Bellatrix dropped her wand, before turning and pointing it at Ron.

"Take Potter and the other prisoners to the dungeon Draco." She snapped. "Except the Blood Traitor. I will question him."

"No!" Harry cried furiously. "No!"

Draco stepped forward and tugged at the rope that they were bound with, as Bellatrix took out a silver knife and cut Ron free. Hermione could feel her heartbeat accelerate, could feel the sweat building on the palm of her hand. Slowly, Hermione looked up at Snape's face. He was already staring at her, and she saw the unmistakeable look of concern etched onto his face. He gave her hand an uncharacteristically gentle squeeze, before looking again at Ron and Bellatrix.

"Where did you find this?" Bellatrix asked in a low, menacing voice. "Tell me."

"I don't know!" Ron mumbled. "I don't know…we just found it…in the forest."

"_LIES_!" Bellatrix aimed her wand at him. "_Crucio_!" Hermione let out a gasp as Ron fell to the floor, writhing in pain.

"Stop! Please I…I don't know!"

"I told you not to lie!" She cried the Unforgivable again, and Hermione gasped once more.

Bellatrix seemed to realise Hermione's disgust, for she stopped and turned to face them. Snape raised an eyebrow at her; an indirect challenge, but still a threat that not even Bellatrix was willing to take on.

"I shall remove her to another room, if that is preferable to you Bellatrix."

"Your _slut _needs to learn that this is treatment he deserves, Severus."

"Come along Verity." He placed a hand on her lower back, and Hermione saw Ron's eyes widen in disgust.

He took her to the kitchen, where they found Draco sat slumped over a tumbler of whiskey. Hermione joined him at the table and Severus left. They sat in silence for a moment, before Draco conjured a glass and poured her some. Although she disliked the taste, Hermione drank it quickly. It went to her head instantly, and she felt distant and muggy.

"You must have been at dinner when they called." Draco said quietly.

"Yes." Hermione mumbled.

"I'm surprised Professor Snape brought you with him."

"He had no other choice." Hermione's glass refilled, as Draco topped up his.

"My mother says I'm too young to be an alcoholic." He grinned as he took a swig. "But it has a numbing effect, which I am not strong enough to resist."

They lapsed into silence again, although it was punctured by Ron's screams, which seemed to pierce Hermione's heart every time she heard them. It would be so simple to burst into the room and take Bellatrix by surprise. She could picture herself casting the Killing Curse and freeing Ron, before running down to the dungeons and freeing all of those that led incarcerated below. Harry would have done it, were he in her position. But she was not Harry, and she had so much more to think about than the boys. What would happen to Severus if she did it? It did not bear thinking about. For perhaps the first time, she really _truly _understood what she had signed herself up for when she asked Snape for help – everything hinged on the secret motivations and actions of an old portrait and a miserable spy who confused her to no end, and she had no choice but to assist them.

"I don't want to be here any more." Draco choked. Hermione looked quickly at him; he appeared to be telling the kitchen table his woes. He downed another glass of whiskey, allowing the glass to quickly refill." I am so tired of _this_. I _hate _it." Hermione went to stand by Draco, and she placed a tentative arm around his shoulder.

"You mustn't let them hear you say that." She whispered. "They'll hurt you."

"But I don't have the strength! How could you even understand, Verity? Snape cossets and coddles you – you wouldn't even have the opportunity to suffer as I do."

"Do you _want _to get yourself killed?" She hissed. "Is that what you want?"

"Dumbledore offered me a way out, you know." He whispered, turning to face her. "I could have accepted it…I could have been free…"

"Regret is useless if you don't do something about it, Draco, but now is not the time. The people who will survive this war are the people who look out for their best interests – right now, it is in your best interest to continue."

"But what if they think badly of me when it's all over? I'll go to Azkaban for this! If I stand by and do nothing…what does that make me?"

Hermione's heart thudded. He could have been reading her mind, taking the words out of her very mouth. It was something she had thought about repeatedly, but had never been brave enough to admit even to herself. What would her friends think of her when the war was over? Would they ever be able to forgive her? She had once thought she had no choice, but she thought of Dean in the dungeons downstairs, and realised that she _could _have chosen to continue living in the forest. Instead, she chose the comfortable option. She chose her own interests over the good of everyone, and now she had gone and developed feelings for a murderer and a man that everyone presumed to be a traitor. What did that make her? What did that make Draco? She contemplated it for a moment, before leaning so close that her mouth almost touched his ear.

"It makes us sensible."

The door opened as she was moving back to her seat, and Hermione looked up to see Snape standing in the doorway. He looked frantic, his eyes sweeping around the room. Hermione stopped and stared at him.

"What is it?" She whispered. He lurched forwards and shook Draco.

"You are needed, Draco! Go to your mother immediately!" He nodded at Hermione before he left.

"Thanks." Draco mumbled groggily. When they were alone, Snape stepped forwards and took her hand, causing Hermione's breath to hitch in her throat.

"You are to come with me. Ask no questions, speak to no one. Follow me. Is that clear?" Hermione tried to remove her hand.

"Why? Severus, what is going on?"

"I said ask no questions."

They left the kitchen and Hermione quickly realised that some form of duel was taking place. They passed the drawing room and Hermione turned her head to look. Very briefly, she saw Harry. He was standing with his wand pointed at Bellatrix, who had placed her silver knife to Ron's throat. Hermione stopped dead, staring with an open mouth. Severus turned, his face like thunder.

"Drop your wands." Bellatrix whispered. "Drop them, or I'll spill the traitor's blood." Hermione looked up at Severus.

"Come…" He hissed. "Come now."

"No!" Hermione whispered back. "I can't…don't you understand?"

"The Dark Lord is coming, Harry Potter! Your death approaches! It's quite a shame your pretty mudblood friend deserted you – then we could've had the set!"

Her instinct to move forwards was stopped as Snape pulled roughly at her hand. He dragged her along the corridor, towards the small room they had arrived in, a look of grim determination on his face.

"I want go back!" She screamed once they came to a stop. "You can't take me away!" Snape cast _muffliato _on the door.

"You will get yourself killed!"

"_I DON'T CARE_! Severus, please! I need to help my friends!" She sobbed loudly, feeling the hot salty tears splash down her face. Swatting him away, she sprinted to the door and tried viciously to pull it open. "Let me go, Severus! Please!"

Without a moment's hesitation, he forcefully wrapped his arms around her and picked her up as though she were a baby. She gripped the front of his robes tightly, watching as he shook his head miserably. They disapparated. Hermione opened her eyes to see that he had took them, not to Hogwarts, but to Spinner's End. He placed her gently onto the battered chair that she had so presumptuously occupied all of those months ago. He covered his eyes with his hands, as she sniffled and wiped the tears from her face.

"You should have let me go." She whispered. "So I could – "

"So you could have got us both killed?" He said. He sounded calm and unfeeling, but the worn expression on his face gave him away.

He stayed quiet as she stood up and walked towards him. Her legs shook a little, but she took a deep breath to summon the confidence. Hermione brought her hand back sharply, before swiping it through the air as though to slap him. She wanted to hurt him for everything; for comparing her to Lily, for making her feel the way she did, for taking her away from her friends...Before her hand could make contact with his cheek, however, he stopped her agilely; wrapping his long fingers tightly around her wrist.

"I..." She sobbed, allowing her head to flop forwards onto his chest. "You..."

He allowed her to cry for a moment, as he gently toyed with a tendril of hair that had escaped from her bun. She felt one of his fingers delicately brush the length of her jaw, and looked up with a baffled expression on her face. Although his actions were tender, his face remained harsh.

"When you came to me in summer, you asked me to protect you; is that correct?" His voice was soft and quiet, almost caring. She nodded. "That is exactly what I did. You were in _danger_, Hermione and my priority was to _keep you safe_." Hermione let out a gentle gasp.

"You called me Hermione." She whispered, biting her lip

"Well I do believe that is your name."

As he continued to play with her hair, Hermione allowed herself to reach up and touch his face. Unlike last time, however, he responded to her touch. His eyes fluttered closed, and Hermione let out a small gasp; she had never seen him so unguarded. She was reluctant to break the silence.

"I don't know what to say." She confessed helplessly. He opened his eyes, and it was almost as if he was peering straight into her mind. She wondered idly if he was performing Legllimency but she was certain that, if he were, she would be able to tell.

"You are too much like her." He muttered, his voice appearing to choke. "Sometimes I think it is addling my brain."

"Please...don't..."

With another uncharacteristic move, he cupped her face with both of his hands; she dropped her hand from his face, placing it on his chest. Hermione tilted her head up towards him, her eyes fluttering closed. Her breathing was heavy, as was his; she could feel it fluttering against her face, smell the heady scent of the wine he had been drinking at dinner.

"I do not think...I..."

"Do not do something you'll regret, Severus." She whispered.

Hermione's stomach swooped as she felt the unexpected contact of his lips on hers. They were surprisingly tender and there was not much pressure behind the kiss. She reached onto her tiptoes to put her arms around his neck, deepening the embrace as she did so. Hermione slowly pulled away, keeping her eyes closed. She knew, deep inside, that this was going to be a mistake, that what was happening had a deeper meaning that neither of them wished to acknowledge. Hermione let out a shaky sigh and smiled, keeping her eyes tightly shut.

"Look at me." It was a command, but Hermione was surprised to hear tenderness within it. She opened her eyes and stared directly into his.

Hermione was barely thinking. She _couldn't_ think – it was like she had forgotten how. She slipped her hand into his, never once breaking their gaze and, gently tugging, he slowly followed her out of the kitchen. They ascended the stairs, only breaking the loaded silence with the creak of the floorboards and the click of the door handle. She stopped by his bed, leaning upwards to kiss him again. He stopped her, however, by gently touching her lips with his finger.

"Are you certain?" She was. Oh she knew there would be consequences, she knew that she was changing things beyond repair, but she was certain.

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><p><em>AN: Here is the next chapter in A Matter of Trust. As always, many thanks fir the reviews of the last chapter. :) This is, of course, the inevitable conclusion that everyone was expecting. Let me know what you think of it, leave a review! :) Thanks again!_


	11. An Ending and a Beginning

Hermione woke slowly, with the queasy uneasy feeling already settling heavy in her stomach. She led still for a moment, her eyes closed and her breathing deep and even, as she tried to quell at least some of her regret, and determine whether or not Severus was in the bed. Turning her head slightly, she opened her eyes and saw that he was. He was led on his back with his arms spread wide as if in surrender, his mouth open slightly, and the sheets only covering up to his hips, leaving the white expanse of his chest open to the chilly air. Taking advantage of these unguarded moments, Hermione's eyes scanned over the part of his body that was exposed to the cold air. His chest slowly rose and fell and Hermione was struck with the desire to place her hand on it; she gave a sigh and shook her head disappointedly.

Slowly and carefully, Hermione sat and climbed out of the bed. She grabbed a grey dressing gown that was flung over a nearby chair in order to protect her modesty; scrambling around for her clothes, when she wanted to escape quickly without waking Snape, was not a good idea. The dressing gown was, of course, too big for her, but it was fit for the time being and she knotted the tie loosely. Quietly, Hermione went out onto the landing and descended the stairs, heading directly to the kitchen. For a moment, she stopped, leaning against the wood of the door frame and looking at the room. At a glimpse to anyone who did not know their situation, they would have presumed that she and Severus were a couple, that much Hermione knew. The kitchen was a scene of homely domesticity; the pile of newspapers in the corner, a half-drunk cup of tea on the small table, flowers growing in a small tub on the windowsill. Even though they had not been there since Christmas, it still looked very much like a well-loved home. But what was it really? Hermione could not answer that.

With a sigh, she walked slowly through to the sitting room, where she sat on the seat that Snape usually chose. She put her feet up on the cushion, resting her chin on her knees and wrapping her arms around them. It was cold in the room, but she had left her wand upstairs and so was unable to build a fire in the grate. Hermione leant back and rested her head against the back of the chair, closing her eyes and taking some deep breaths. She dreaded the moment that Snape woke, dreaded the conversation that they would have to have because, simply putting it, Hermione had no idea what to say. She did not regret what they had done, not really, but she was terrified that he would; she knew that, if he felt a small inkling of guilt, he would be distraught. _Lily_. She had once meant so little to Hermione, simply known to her as Harry's mother that died to save him, but now...now she seemed to be everywhere, and it sickened Hermione that she was slowly beginning to loathe someone she had never met, someone who had died when she was just a baby. It wasn't right, and she could not let it continue.

A creaking of the floorboards distracted her, and Hermione opened her eyes slowly to see Snape standing in the doorway. She was surprised to see him so casually dressed; he was wearing nothing but black pyjama trousers, even his feet were bare. Hermione swallowed slightly, waiting for him to speak.

"Good morning, Miss Granger."

"Hermione." She corrected forcefully, before quietly adding "last night, you called me Hermione."

She shuddered with pleasure at the recollection. His voice had been deeper and husky as his lips brushed tenderly across her neck. He had groaned her name with every time he had thrust deep inside her. She looked up at him, her cheeks flushed, and saw in his eyes that he was recollecting too. She bit her lip and looked at the floor, her entire body tensing as he stepped towards her. She gave a breathy sigh as he placed a finger beneath her chin, tilting her head and forcing her to look at him.

"Good morning, _Hermione_." She blushed as she turned her head away; unable to look at him, knowing what she was about to say.

"I can't do this." She whispered quietly. "Last night was a mistake." Snape dropped his hand and stepped backwards, a sneer spreading across his face. The change in his demeanour was startling.

"I see. Woke up this morning and remembered that I was your potions professor, old enough to be your father and a murderous Death Eater, did you?"

"No." Hermione argued, looking up and staring him directly in the eye. "It's nothing to do with who you _are_; any...anything I felt yesterday, I still feel now."

"Then what reason is behind this misguided show of Gryffindor nobility?" Hermione gave a tired sigh.

"Lily." Snape physically recoiled at the sound of her name on Hermione's lips. "You see, your reaction to her name is enough to tell me that I have made the right decision. You loved..._love _her, Severus, and I am fully aware that I cannot compete with that nor, do I think, I even want to try."

"I do not think that my past is any of your concern."

"Perhaps," Hermione replied thoughtfully, "in ordinary circumstances, you would be right, but I think it is very much my concern when I know that it is going to hurt me."

Hermione stood up, folding her arms across her chest and taking a deep breath to steady herself. She looked up at Snape, who seemed to be staring at a spot on the wall as if willing himself to disappear. Hermione longed to know what he was thinking, wished that he would tell her, but she knew that he would not. Tentatively, she reached out and placed a hand on his arm.

"I do have feelings for you Severus, in spite of all that I've said and all that you think, but I believe it to be for the best if we just...forget that last night ever happened. I hope that you can...can try to understand why, and that one day you...you might be able to leave Lily Potter where she belongs...the past." Hermione walked past him and left the room, shutting the door behind her carefully as she went.

Severus continued to stare at the wall for a moment, before the trance suddenly seemed to snap. He lurched forwards and grabbed the nearest object, a vase that stood on the mantelpiece, before throwing it angrily at the wall, enjoying the sound and the sight of it smashing into tiny pieces. He stumbled over to a small chest of drawers that stood in the corner, wrenching open the top one and taking out a torn photograph. He had stolen it from Grimmauld Place, the night after he had killed Dumbledore. It was a picture of Lily; judging by the letter with which he had found it, it had been taken shortly before she was killed. She looked so beautiful, standing in the sunlight and smiling up at him. Looking at that picture, Severus could see now that Hermione really was nothing like her. She had something warm about her, something that Lily had never possessed or, if she did, had never shown to Severus. He threw the picture to one side in disgust with himself; knowing that, once again, his past had destroyed any hope he had had for a future.

They returned to Hogwarts that afternoon in stony silence. Snape would barely look at Hermione, let alone speak to her, but she could understand why. She knew that she had hurt him, and Hermione was truly sorry for it, but she did believe that it was best for both of them in the long run. As soon as they arrived back at the office, Hermione shouted for Phineas. The former headmaster appeared in his portrait looking somewhat disgruntled.

"Why on earth are you hollering for me?"

"Harry, Ron...are they alright?" She gasped. She could not believe that she had forgotten them both so quickly, but she had been so preoccupied with other things. Phineas frowned slightly.

"Of course they are! Escaped that ghastly place with ease apparently; managed to rescue that old miser Ollivander, some slightly crazy blonde girl, a goblin and a house elf! Although, regrettably, the house elf died!"

"Luna!" Hermione gasped happily. "It must be Luna! But who was the house elf?"

"Oh, I don't know! It began with a D. Donny or Dolly or something like that."

"Dobby?" Hermione whispered quietly.

"Yes, that's the one! Potter was heartbroken, dug a grave for him with his own bare hands apparently!"

Hermione had never felt so distant from her friends than she did at that moment. Dobby was dead, and she could only imagine the pain that Harry must have been feeling. Did they ever wonder where she was, did they ever think that they needed her? Hermione needed them just then; a warm hug from Harry or Ron would have made her feel so much better, about everything. Of course, the very idea of explaining to them _why _she was so upset made her laugh out loud; they would have been disgusted, repulsed, and she certainly would have had two less friends afterwards. Hermione gave a fatigued sigh as Snape brushed through the office, presumably on some business in some other part of the castle. Hermione looked up to see Dumbledore peering at her.

"What happened, Miss Granger? Between you and Severus?"

"I...I would rather not say." Hermione replied nervously, fiddling with her robes. "But I know that I've hurt him...I am convinced that it is for the best, however, Lily is still..."

"You ought not to worry about Lily, Miss Granger."

"How can you say that?" Hermione asked, laughing incredulously. "You of all people know that she is an intrinsic part of Severus; indeed, you have used and manipulated that fact for the past twenty or so years!"

"Miss Granger!" Dumbledore exclaimed in offended disbelief.

"You cannot deny it! Severus has never been permitted to forget, to move on, and now he feels that he never shall! He believes that his devotion to Lily is the only reason worth keeping him alive, and you helped and encouraged him to think that! _I _see that that is not true, _I _could have helped him, but the bind that _you _have forced upon him is too strong!"

"How dare you speak to me in that way, Miss Granger?"

"I _do _dare, because you may have learnt how to control Severus, but you shall never have a hold over me."

Later that evening, Severus returned to his office after hours of stalking the castle alone. He did not have anything to do elsewhere, no one to see, but he had simply had no desire to be in the company of Hermione Granger. He could not say that he was angry at her, not truly, for he knew that he was entirely to blame for the situation in which he found himself. This was not the first time that he had come close to...loving someone? He supposed that, in this circumstance, love was a little too pre-emptive, but nevertheless he did have feelings for Hermione Granger. Yet every time he tried to develop any kind of relationship with someone else, Lily always rose between them, like an invisible spectre who consumed his entire life. Last time he had had feelings for someone, he had stopped himself out of sheer guilt for betraying Lily, but this time...well Hermione had simply seen it before he had even realised himself.

When he entered the office, every single one of the portraits was in uproar, shouting and arguing, rowing across the room. Only Dumbledore was silent, staring directly at Snape with a harsh look upon his face. Severus stopped, looking around for any sign of Hermione.

"What is the matter? What happened?"

"You have a fierce defender in Miss Granger, Severus." Snape frowned, resting his hand upon the desk.

"What are you talking about, Albus? I am in no mood for your cryptic riddles this afternoon."

"Miss Granger suddenly became rather incensed this afternoon, and accused me of using your love for Lily Potter as a means by which to control you. I am curious to hear, Severus, if you share this opinion with her."

"I do not." He replied stiffly. "I hold myself entirely responsible for...for everything."

"Then I implore you, Severus, accept that it is the past and move on." Dumbledore sighed wearily. "I do not know what passed between you and Miss Granger, but I fear it will only be resolved if you learn to say goodbye to Lily...You too deserve a future..."

"But I shall not have one." Severus barked. "And you knew that from the start. I do not wish for a moment to linger on what occurred between Miss Granger and I, for it is ridiculous to focus my energy on things that shall not change. My only concern is to end this with as few people dead as possible, and to ensure that Potter survives at the end of it."

The weeks passed slowly and solemnly at Hogwarts, now that Hermione and Snape were no longer talking. They were civil to one another, of course, when the occasion called for it, but Hermione preferred not to be in any room at the same time as Severus. She was terrified of what her feelings would lead her to say or do; she had already lost her temper with Dumbledore, and now she was wary of conversing with him too. Hogwarts was truly a lonely place. In her solitude, Hermione could not help but think about what might happen to her, if Harry was to be unsuccessful and the Death Eaters won. She could imagine Severus telling her to leave, casting her out onto the street to try and fend for herself or, perhaps worse yet, he would take care of her forever, and she would be forced to face how she felt every day for the rest of her life.

On the morning of the first of May, Hermione woke up with a peculiar feeling in her stomach. She was not certain of the cause behind it, but she was unable to shake it as she climbed out of bed and got dressed for the day. When Hermione walked through to the sitting room, she was already able to hear a loud muttering of discussion in the office. She stepped in, only to see Severus reading a letter with a look of concern upon his face; Dumbledore was also wearing a similar expression of anxiety.

"What's happened?" Hermione asked.

"Potter and Weasley broke into Bellatrix's vault at Gringott's." Snape explains. "They stole the final Horcrux, which had been placed there by the Dark Lord for safe-keeping."

"I don't understand." Hermione said. "What does that mean?"

"There are only two Horcruxes remaining." Dumbledore said. "One is always by Tom's side, and the other...the other is here, at Hogwarts."

"They'll...they'll be coming here?" Hermione whispered. "Does that mean it is almost –"

"The end." Snape muttered hoarsely. Hermione felt the blood drain from her face, and frowned with confusion as Snape lurched forwards and grabbed her hand. It was the first physical contact they had shared since that night, almost two months before, and it made Hermione's head spin. He flashed a look at Albus, the meaning of which Hermione was not sure, before dragging her through to the sitting room. He motioned for her to sit down, before slamming the door shut and sound-proofing it.

"What's going on?" Hermione asked. "You're frightening me."

"It is time, I believe, to tell you everything. I know Albus would not approve however; apparently, you are no longer in his good graces." He smirked, and Hermione gave a small smile.

"No, I suppose you could say that I'm no longer as fond as the headmaster's scheming as I might once have been."

"You must be quiet now and listen carefully, try to understand everything I tell you." Hermione nodded. "Potter will soon be coming to Hogwarts and, when he does, the Dark Lord will know that Harry is on the trail of his Horcruxes. He will come here, as will the rest of the Death Eaters."

"And then we fight."

"Yes, but first...you see, the Deathly Hallows are real. Potter _is _currently in possession of Death's invisibility cloak, and the Dark Lord recently stole the Elder Wand from Albus' grave. Unbeknownst to Potter, he is also in possession of the Resurrection Stone. Do you remember that he inherited the snitch from Dumbledore? The Stone is concealed inside it, and will only be opened at the close."

"But what _is _the close?" Hermione asked. "Harry and I tried everything when Scrimgeour first gave it to him, and we couldn't figure it out."

"Potter...he...Potter has to die." Hermione felt as if the room was swimming in front of her, as if all of the air had been sucked out of the room. She refused to believe him, refused to acknowledge that Harry had to die after all, despite all of his struggles. She shook her head, feeling a tear streaking down her cheek although she hadn't even known that she was crying.

"Why?" She whispered, her voice choked.

"When Potter defeated him, all those years ago, the Dark Lord accidentally placed a part of his soul inside Harry. Harry is a Horcrux – that explains his ability to speak Parseltongue, and why there was such a close connection between their minds...why their wands would not work against one another."

"But...I don't..." Hermione shook her head. "Who will defeat him if Harry is dead?"

"Albus will not tell me the finer details, but he leads me to believe that Potter will not really die." He shook his head. "I cannot understand how, but he assures me that his plan has made it so that – "

"His...his _plan_?" Hermione hissed, leaping to her feet. "He has intended Harry to die all along? What...what kind of a man is he? He is no better than You-Know-Who himself!"

"Potter is not the only man whom Albus intends to die." Hermione knew instantly who he was talking about, and allowed her eyes to flutter closed as the room blurred in front of her once more.

"No..." She said angrily. "No! I won't let him, I won't _let _him end your life after he has so spectacularly ruined it!" Hermione withdrew her wand and began to stride towards the office, intent on destroying the portrait, but Snape stopped her.

"I do not intend to die either, Hermione." She swallowed. "But I need you to help me."

"How?" He reached into his pocket, and Hermione watched carefully as he withdrew a small vial, she held out her hand and he placed it on the palm. "What is it?"

"Anti-venom."

"I don't understand."

"There is only a small chance that you will have to use this, but I am firm in my suspicions that you will. I cannot tell you when exactly, for I am uncertain, but you will know. Make sure Potter is there, when it happens." Hermione shook her head.

"I can't do it, Severus." She pleaded. "I can't do this knowing that you will...that he will...let's just run away somewhere, disappear! We can use the potion you made, assume entirely new identities and just run away. No one need know..." Hermione was surprised when Snape laughed, before gently placing a hand on her cheek.

"Could you really do that?" He asked her quietly. "Would you really run away from Potter, from all of your other friends, to save someone as insignificant as me?"

"Yes!" Hermione blurted. "Yes, I would."

"But I know you will not. Not least because I would not let you, but also because I know you better. You are loyal to a fault, and I have never seen Hermione Granger turn her back on a challenge." She smiled sadly.

"I'm sorry, you know, about – "

"Don't." He replied, holding up a hand to silence her. "If it will help to ease your mind a little, I have recently come to understand something."

"What?" Hermione whispered.

"You are, in truth, not as similar to Lily as I thought you were. You once said to me that you would, unlike Lily, never turn your back on a friend – I know this to be true. And now...at the first sign of trouble, Lily and James Potter buried their heads and hid, anything to avoid facing their greatest fears, but you...you Hermione...you will stand and fight for what you believe."

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><p><em>AN: As usual, in the world of fanfic, not everything goes exactly to plan! A lot of time passed in that chapter, hope it didn't seem to rushed or hurried. Many thanks to all those who reviewed the last chapter - please do the same for this one, it really makes me smile! :) Thanks!_


	12. An End To The Ruse

_A/N: **Many apologies for updating the wrong document! **Sorry for the delay in updating this story. My exams finished, only to be replaced by a full schedule of having fun, so I've barely spent an hour in front of my computer! Many thanks for all of the reviews on the last chapter, please let me know what you think of this one! _

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><p>There was a peculiar sort of atmosphere the next day, a heavy sort of impatience that seemed to pervade every room. Snape had alerted all of the staff, but he was keen to prevent any of the students from guessing that something might be wrong. As the evening fell, Hermione and Snape ate in silence in their rooms, wearing outdoor robes with their wands on the tables as if, any minute, they would be called away. Once they had finished, Snape reached into the pocket of his robes and withdrew another vial; the liquid in this one was darker, thick and black like the potion she had taken many months ago.<p>

"This is the antidote to the disguise. Keep it with you, and take it when you feel it is prudent. Exercise caution, however; try and take it when there is no one...objectionable around." Hermione pocketed the potion with a nod. "I would like you to accompany me on my patrols of the school this evening."

"Of course." Hermione whispered. She licked her lips nervously, before looking at Snape. "I...I'm afraid." He watched her carefully a moment, before bowing his head.

"You would not be human if you weren't." She let out a shaky breath.

"I never really thought...I suppose it was naive of me, but I thought it would feel less like a war." She gave a laugh at her own words, shaking her head. "I'm scared for them, Severus, for all of them. For Ron, for Harry, for you..."

"I wish that I could prevent you from being afraid, but I know that to attempt such a thing would be futile."

They went out into the corridors, which bore a strange kind of silence that almost seemed forced. Neither of them spoke as they walked around the halls in continuous circles, passing every known entrance and exit to the school and passing other professors as they did. Hermione found herself longing for Harry to come, just so their painful wait would be over and they could begin to _do _something. She was restless and uncomfortable, trapped between the magical walls that she hoped would soon keep the Death Eaters out. It was to be a long and tiring night, she knew.

They had been circling the school for almost two hours when, suddenly, Snape gave a hiss and gripped his arm. Hermione knew instantly what it meant, before he had even opened his mouth to tell her; the action and his expression was enough. Harry had arrived. She was surprised to find, however, that he did not instantly rush off to where he might be but, instead, walked calmly and slowly. He beckoned for Hermione to follow him, motioning for her to slow down when her pace unconsciously began to quicken. Suddenly, Hermione was able to hear footsteps and whispered voices, and she let out a gasp as Snape grabbed hold of her and dragged her behind a suit of armour. Hermione let out a small gasp as she saw Professor McGonagall running, wearing a tartan dressing gown that came down to the floor.

"_Who's there?_" She asked, stopping suddenly and raising her wand. Snape slipped his hand into Hermione's and stepped out.

"_It is I_." He replied. "_Where are the Carrows? I was under the impression that Alecto had apprehended an intruder._" Hermione's heart was pounded in her chest.

"_Really? And what gave you that impression_?" Hermione watched, barely able to conceal her surprise when he rolled back his sleeve to show the Dark Mark_. "Oh, but naturally. You Death Eaters have your own private means of communication, I forgot._" Minerva looked at Hermione, a clear look of sheer loathing. She shied away, turning her head slowly and allowing her hair to shield her face. Snape squeezed her hand.

"_Have you seen Harry Potter, Minerva? Because if you have, I must insist – " _

Hermione let out a shriek as Minerva suddenly waved her wand, but Severus was quick and produced a Shield Charm that protected them both and sent McGonagall off balance. Hermione wanted to cry as Minerva and Severus began to duel. She watched helplessly as the flight escalated, as Harry and Luna suddenly appeared; they had evidently been hiding behind the Invisibility Cloak. Suddenly, Hermione knew what to do. She stepped out from the protection of the Shield Charm and waved her wand to amplify her voice, just as Sprout and Flitwick ran down the corridor to join the fight.

"_Stop_!" She shouted; the sound ricocheting around the corridor. She was surprised when they did as she had said, but Harry peered at her with unbridled curiosity.

"Who are you?" He spat venomously. "I've never seen you before."

"I...I know." Hermione whispered nervously, she dipped her hand into her pocket and began to fumble with the vial. Severus' eyes widened when he saw her.

"No." He whispered. "Not now...you must not do it now."

"I have to..." She whispered. "I...I want to _help _them, Severus."

"You cannot, not yet! Everything must be revealed at the _right time_."Hermione laughed, shaking her head.

"I'm going to decide when that right time is, and I think it is now." She removed the vial from her pocket, removing the stopper. "I'm not who you think I am." She opened her mouth and tipped the liquid down her month, before gasping as a wave of cold passed over her entire body. She knew, instantly, that her disguise had disappeared.

"_No!_" Minerva shouted, shaking her head in disbelief. "Hermione Granger? Impossible! It is a lie."

"It isn't!" Hermione implored. "I've been hiding here in plain sight, Severus has – "But Hermione was interrupted by Luna, who stepped forwards and gave Hermione a warm hug.

"It really is her, Harry." Luna said, turning to face him. "I could see through her disguise all along – at first I thought it was strange that no one else could recognise her, but I soon realised what was going on." Harry stepped forwards slowly, frowning slightly.

"I want to trust that it's you, but I can't be sure."

"It is me." She said, shrugging her shoulders helplessly. "You left me the night before Bill and Fleur's wedding – you took the bag that I had enchanted to make bigger and packed full of our stuff. I...God I've missed you, Harry."

Harry wrapped his arms around her tightly, pulling her into an embrace. When she pulled away, tears were tumbling down her cheeks.

"I'm so sorry we left you, Hermione." He mumbled.

"It's alright." She replied. "In a way, I'm glad you did; if you hadn't, I would never have...I would never..." She turned to look at Snape, whose face was expressionless as ever. He sneered suddenly, shaking his head as if in disgust.

"Such a touching display, but perhaps we may get back to the matter at hand. _Potter_," He spat, pointing his wand at Harry viciously, "is wanted by the Dark Lord, as is Granger, and he shall be here at any moment." Hermione felt as if she had been punched in the stomach at the sound of her name. He was evidently furious with her for revealing her identity, but how could she have let them leave without her? She needed to help Harry; didn't he realise that, after all, that was their main goal? Everything they were going to do that night was for Harry.

"I would rather you killed me than take them, Severus." Snape gave a grunt of disgust, before charging past Minerva into a nearby classroom and shooting a spell her way. The deputy head fled after him, sending curses his way, and Hermione too ran into the room. He looked as if he was about to jump through the glass window, but paused when he realised that Hermione was there too.

"Please, Severus!" She begged, her voice but a whisper. "Please _don't_." She gasped as he leant towards her, his lips brushing her ear as he whispered.

"I am sorry, Hermione." And with that, he ran towards the window and smashed through the glass.

"_Coward_!" Minerva screamed. "_Coward_!" Hermione leapt forwards and leant through the hole, looking as Snape seemed to fly off into the distance.

"_Severus_!" She screamed, the sound of her voice echoing around the mountains.

Minerva began to guide Hermione back into the corridor, seemingly choosing to ignore what she had just witnessed between the two of them and the fact that Hermione was shaking, but Harry and Luna suddenly ran into the room.

"_He jumped_." Minerva said simply.

"_You mean he's_ _dead_?" Harry hissed, running forwards.

"_No. Unlike Dumbledore, he was still carrying a wand...and he seems to have learned a few tricks from his master_."

They did not linger in the classroom for long, for which Hermione was glad. She could not ignore the hollow feeling that she felt in her stomach; for the first time in months, she and Severus were properly separated. He would not be able to return to her side that night, for fear of discovery. She knew that she should be concentrating on more important things, on helping Harry and trying to make up for months of absence, but she could think of nothing but Severus. Hermione jumped slightly when she felt a hand in hers, and looked to see Luna smiling at her warmly.

"Don't worry...oh, I have no idea what to call you now! Verity or Hermione?"

"Her...Hermione." She whispered.

"Well, don't worry Hermione. He'll be alright."

Hermione followed Harry and Luna helplessly to the Room of Requirement, wondering what on earth was going on. Harry leant against the wall, gaining them admission into the room and, when they descended some steep steps, they arrived in a room that was bustling with people. Hermione's heart seemed to ache with joy at the sight of the people there; Kingsley and Lupin, Fred, George, Ginny, Ron...she wanted to embrace them all, to kiss every single one of them simply for being alive.

"Hermione?" It was Ron, stepping forward with his mouth open as if he had seen a ghost. "Bloody hell, where did you come from?"

"It's a long story." Hermione replied, smiling slightly. "There'll be plenty of time to explain when all of this is over." Ron grinned, before leaping towards her and pulling her into a tight hug. She felt as if he would squeeze the very life out of her, but she was happy to let him if he would. It was as if she had finally come home.

"Harry," Hermione said suddenly, turning towards him, "have you destroyed the Hufflepuff Cup yet?" Harry frowned slightly.

"How did you know about that?" She smiled and tapped her nose playfully. "Well, no, we haven't."

"Excellent! I've got an idea, I know how we can do it. Ron, will you come with me?"

"Yeah, I suppose. Is that alright with you, mate?"

"Yeah, but be back as soon as you can!"

"Grab a broomstick!" Hermione cried on the way out as they passed one that had been discarded on the floor.

Hermione took hold of Ron's hand and dragged him down the corridors, ignoring the confused whispers of students where were not beginning to leave their common rooms and prepare for evacuation. Every step that Hermione took seemed to conjure with it an image of Severus; bloodied on the floor of the grounds, being tortured by Death Eaters, captured by the Order and put to death for his treachery...She shook her head furiously, determined to forget about it as they arrived at Moaning Myrtle's bathroom. Hermione pulled him inside, shutting the door behind her and putting a magical enchantment in place to prevent anyone else from entering.

"What the bloody hell are we doing here?" Ron gasped. Hermione turned to him, after bending down and inspecting the taps curiously, with her hands on her hips.

"Well, Basilisk fangs contain the proper venom to destroy a Horcrux don't they? Harry destroyed the diary with one, and the sword of Gryffindor was full of the venom when you destroyed the locket. So, I thought we might as well come down here and collect some of the fangs, so we can use them to destroy the rest."

"Brilliant." Ron whispered, seemingly awe-struck. "But how did you know about the sword?"

"Like I said, it's something of a long tale. I'll tell you once we've got into the Chamber." Ron frowned and stared at the sink, before looking at Hermione.

"You don't happen to know a spell that'll get us in there, do you?"

"Unfortunately not." She replied, sighing thoughtfully. "Do you remember what it sounded like, when Harry got you in there the first time?"

"I suppose it sounded something like this." Ron made a strange hissing and spitting sound that, if it had been in any other circumstance, would have made Hermione laugh.

"Try it!" Ron bent down and tried, but nothing happened. "Again!" Once more, nothing happened, until Ron tried a third time and the entrance to the Chamber appeared.

"Bloody hell!" He mumbled, rubbing the side of his face in shock. "I did it!" Hermione gave an excited laugh, before jumping down into the Chamber and beckoning Ron to follow.

She was truly surprised by the sheer size of the Chamber of Secrets; although Harry had described it to them both in detail, she had never quite imagined it to be quite like that. Ron looked a little pale as they stepped over the rotting carcass of the Basilisk, and Hermione herself felt more than a little queasy.

"It's impressive, isn't it?" She asked, looking around. "I never thought it would be quite as...grand."

"I can't believe it was hiding in the school all that time, and all it took was a thirteen year old boy to find it!"

"Harry is hardly a _normal_ teenage boy though, is he?" Hermione asked, kneeling down at the mouth of the snake and frowning at the stench. Ron began wandering around the outskirts of the Chamber, wincing at the squelching noise his feet made.

"Where were you all of this time, Hermione?" She gave a small sigh as she used her wand to slowly extract the teeth.

"I was hiding here." She said quietly. "Dumbledore gave me the idea, and Snape was co-operative."

"Co-operative? I thought he was a bloody murderous traitor."

"A murderer he may be, but a traitor he is not. The story is not as black and white as you'd like it to be."

"Who told you that then?" Hermione turned to look at Ron.

"Dumbledore did." She had managed to remove all of the teeth, and began to scoop as many as she could into her arms, being careful not to be scratched by any of them. She stopped short, however, when Hermione noticed Ron staring at her sadly.

"I'm sorry we left you, Hermione." He said quietly. "But you must know, we did it for your own safety." Hermione sighed.

"I know that your intentions were good, and I understand why you did it, but I'm not a doll...I'm not some fragile thing who'll be damaged by the merest thing. I've been in dangerous positions this year anyway, perhaps even more precarious than you at times."

"_How_?" Ron asked.

"I had a private audience with the Dark Lord, where he asked me questions about where I'd come from and why I was there – I had to lie, of course, but I knew that any minute I could get caught." Ron's eyes widened. "I went to Godric's Hollow after you have left and helped to clean up the mess in Bathilda Bagshot's cottage, I was at Lovegood's an hour or so before his house exploded, and I was there the night you found the sword in the lake."

"I...I don't..."

"But the night that I almost got caught, the night that I almost ruined _everything_..." She closed her eyes, trying desperately to forget the memory of what had happened afterwards, and summon the courage to tell him. "It was the night you were tortured in Malfoy Manor. I...I came into the room and I saw you; you gave me such a look of...of pure hatred and I...I almost ruined everything by going in there and killing Bellatrix and...I'm sorry that I didn't."

"I don't understand..."Ron replied, frowning. "Why did Snape let you do all of this? Why was he there at all of these things?"

"I'm not supposed to..." She sighed. "You mustn't tell Harry – it's imperative that he discover everything at the right time."

"I...alright..."

"He's _good_, Ron, and he's acting on a plan, a plan that the portrait of Dumbledore in the office is helping him with. He gave you the sword that night, and he was been nothing but careful of trying to protect you and Harry in the proper way. He protected me too." She added lamely. "Harry _must not_ know this yet; you must swear to me that you won't tell." Ron looked a little overwhelmed at this flood of information.

"I won't, I promise I won't. Speaking of Harry, don't you...er...think we should be getting back?"

"Yes, you're right we probably should!" Ron swung his leg over the broomstick and watched, looking slightly amused, as Hermione anxiously did the same. She gripped the broomstick weakly, and nodded to signal Ron to kick off. Before he did, he turned to look at her.

"I didn't think I'd ever say this, especially not after what happened last year, but I'm grateful to Snape. I'm glad he kept you safe." Hermione smiled.

"I'd like to hear you say that to his face."

"Never going to happen, I'm afraid." He looked awkward for a moment. "Listen, Hermione I –"

"Come on!" She interrupted. "We really need to get back to Harry!" Ron gave a weary sigh before kicking his heels, sending them rocketing towards the ceiling and out of the Chamber of Secrets.


	13. A Rescue and a Murder

Severus stood in the middle of the Forbidden Forest, his death eater mask fixed firmly in place and his robes drawn tightly around his body. He was surrounded by other Death Eaters who were milling around, mumbling quietly to one another as they tried to understand what was about to happen. He was trying desperately to keep the concern from his face, to try and keep his composure. He was angry, that much was certain, but why he possibly could not say. Had he expected that Hermione would maintain her disguise? Would stay by his side throughout the entire battle? Anyone could have guessed that she would return to her friends at the earliest possibility; after all, hadn't she spent the entire time hoping that one day she would be able to? He hadn't fit into her hopes at all, not really, no matter how much he had liked to pretend otherwise.

The whole circle fell silent as the Dark Lord swept into the centre of it, the snake Nagini sliding slowly behind him. He turned around, as if completing a mental checklist of all those who were and were not there. He stopped when he reached Severus, his eyes narrowing.

"Where is your cousin, Severus?" He asked. "Have you left Miss Prince in the castle, at the mercy of those fools?"

"I did not have time to collect her when I made my exit from the school, my Lord." He said stiffly. "But I hope to be able to find her before the battle commences."

"Go now, Severus." He hissed. "But return to me as soon as you can."

Severus walked out of the circle before, at a distance away, breaking out into a run. He had to find her, to speak to her before it was too late. Severus was not certain what he wanted to say, but he knew that it was imperative that he find her. Could it be that he was finally able to relinquish his past? Now that the very moment had come to remember it, he was ready to toss it away? He hoped that he would understand when he found her but, until that moment, he had only to wonder. His plan was ruined, however, when he came near to the school to find that the troupes had already been rallied. There was no way for him to get in, no way for him to get to her; at least not until all of the Death Eaters gained entranced to the school. He balled his hands into fists, before tossing back his head and opening his mouth, his shouts echoing around the grounds.

"_Hermione_!"

Inside the school, Hermione and Ron set off running as soon as they left the Chamber, splitting the load of the fangs between them and sprinting through the now empty corridors. As they rounded the corner, they saw Harry running towards them, yelling with a mixture of both fury and relief. Hermione's heart flipped with joy again, still thrilled about the chance to be with her two best friends again. Harry came to a stop in front of them, bending over and taking a deep breath.

"Where the _hell_ have you been?" Harry gasped.

"Chamber of Secrets!" Ron replied, grinning. "Something to get rid of the Horcruxes."

"_How did you get in there?"_ Harry asked, frowning slightly. "_You need to speak Parseltongue!"_

"_He did!"_ Hermione whispered. "_Show him, Ron!"_ Ron made the same hissing and spitting noise.

"_I had to have a few goes to get it right, but we got there in the end!"_

"_He was amazing! Amazing!" _

"I've got the Horcrux here, Harry. I thought Hermione should destroy it, you know...because she wasn't there..."

"Of course, of course." Hermione hesitated for a moment, dropping all of the fags but one.

"I don't know if I can." She whispered. "I saw what happens when...I don't want..."

"If you're quick, it won't happen." Ron said. "You need to be really determined." Harry handed Ron the cup, and he placed it on the floor in front of her.

"Just stab it." Harry said. Hermione looked at both of the boys and thought of how much she missed them; she thought of that night with Severus too, of how elated she had felt at his very touch. She hoped that it would work like a Patronus – the happier she was, the less terrible it would be. Closing her eyes, Hermione lifted the fang above her head, before bringing it down and driving it into the cup. A loud screeching noise filled the hallway and the cup rattled, until it suddenly fell silent and still. Hermione laughed, staggering backwards slightly and dropping the fang.

"_Now that that's taken care of, we can get on with it!_" Harry said. "_I know what the diadem looks like, and I know where it is. He hid it exactly where I hid my old Potions book, where everyone's been hiding stuff for centuries. He thought he was the only one to find it. Come on_."

They followed Harry to the Room of Requirement, and entered to find the room far less crowded than it had been before. There were only three people inside – Tonks, Ginny, and an elderly woman who Hermione presumed to be Augusta Longbottom.

"_Are there still people in the passage to the Hog's Head?"_ Harry asked, Hermione looked questioningly at Ron, but it was evidently something too long to explain at that moment.

"_I was the last to come through."_ Augusta Longbottom said. _"Have you seen my grandson?"_

"_He's fighting."_ Harry replied.

"_Naturally."_ And she walked swiftly out of the room. Harry turned to Tonks and they had a brief conversation, before she too left the room in a hurry. Hermione shifted somewhat nervously as they turned to Ginny; she had obviously heard Hermione's story from someone, because she was looking at her with a mixture of curiosity and regret.

"Ginny..." Hermione said quietly. "I wanted to tell you, the day that I followed you out of the office, but I –"

"I knew there was something funny about you." She said, shaking her head. "And I could tell that Luna knew something too, something she repeatedly refused to tell me. I wish I could have been more of a friend to you, but I presumed..."

"Don't worry." Hermione replied, smiling. "I understand...there's no time for regrets now, is there? You did an amazing job, sending Snape and the Carrows running up and down the castle." Ginny laughed.

"Yes, we certainly caused our fair share of trouble."

"_Ginny,"_ Harry interrupted, _"I'm sorry, but we need you to leave too. Just for a bit. Then you can come back in."_ But Ginny did not look put-out by this, she simply looked delighted. As she skipped out of the room, Harry shouted after her. _"And then you can come back in! You've got to come back in!" _

"I suppose now we have to leave the room?" Hermione asked, "To make it change?"

"Yes." Harry said simply, turning to leave. Hermione was about to follow him, but Ron grabbed her arm.

"Listen Hermione, I have something that I want to say...before the real fighting starts." Hermione licked her lips nervously.

"What is it?"

"I...I love you, alright?" Hermione's heart sank, knowing that she would have to break his heart.

"Ron...I...if you'd said that to me a year ago, or even a couple of months, I would have been able to reciprocate your feelings, but...but I can't, not anymore. Too much has changed" She said sadly. "I do love you, but more like a dear friend or...or a brother." She was surprised to see that Ron didn't look too upset about it; in fact he even seemed to look a little relieved.

"I thought you'd respond like that and, believe me, I'm not too destroyed by it. You're not the only one who's changed – I like to think I've become a little more mature." Hermione grinned.

"I have to say I agree." The door behind them opened again, and Harry peered round looking furious.

"Come _on_!" He shouted. "Is this really the right time?" Ron took hold of Hermione's hand and gave it a squeeze.

"Let's go, or else Voldemort won't be the only one Harry's trying to kill tonight!"

When Hermione and Ron left the room, the weakening state of the castle was obvious. The walls and ceilings were shaking, and the air was thick with dust and dirt. Through the window you could see flashes of red and green light, and the distant rumble of shouts and screams. Hermione shuddered, wondering helplessly were Severus was and I he was alright. They waited for a moment in the corridor as Harry paced up and down before, suddenly, a door appeared. Harry pushed it open, and they entered to find a silent and dimly-lit cathedral-like room, full to the brim with various objects.

"_He never realised that anyone could get in?" _Ron asked as they walked through.

"_He thought he was the only one. This way, I think it's down here."_ They passed the Vanishing Cabinet that had been so destructive the year before, seemingly wandering aimlessly as Harry frantically looked in one direction or another.

"_Accio diadem!"_ Hermione tried, but nothing happened.

"_Let's split up."_ Harry said. _"Look for a stone bust of an old man wearing a wig and a tiara!"_

Hermione ran off down an aisle, looking desperately for anything that could have been the diadem. Suddenly, she heard a lot of shouting and commotion, and decided to turn around and return to the point where they had separated. Just as she rounded a corner, she saw Harry standing opposite Crabbe, Goyle and Malfoy. She sent a Stunning Spell towards Crabbe, but Malfoy was quick and dragged his crony out of the way.

"_It's that mudblood!"_ Crabbe screamed. _"Avada Kedavra!"_ They managed to leap out of the way in time, but the use of the Killing Curse seemed to drive Harry to rage. He began shooting spells at them, managing to knock Malfoy's wand from his hand. Malfoy jumped out of the way of the spells and hid behind a wardrobe.

"_It's somewhere here!"_ Harry shouted to her, pointing at a pile. "_Look for it while I_ – " But Hermione did not listen. She remembered what Severus had said, when he first instructed her to befriend Draco. He wanted her to help him, to be the one to save him once it was all over. She ran towards where he was hiding, and grabbed the front of his robes to prevent him from going anywhere.

"Get off me you crazy mudblood, get off me!"

"Just shut up!" She shouted. "Shut up for one moment! I'm Verity Prince...it was a disguise that I used to stay here all year...I want to help you Draco, and I _can _help you now if you'll only give me the chance."

"You're lying." He spat, but she could see the hesitation. "You're not Verity Prince!"

"I am! Listen, I know what I said to you that night...the night that Ron and Harry were brought to the Manor. You said...you said 'if I stand by and do nothing, what does that make me?' and I replied 'that makes us sensible'." He blinked twice, before physically sagging backwards.

"It _was_ you...but...why? Why are you doing this for me?"

"I may have been pretending to be someone else, but I'd thought...I'd thought we were friends." He hesitated for a moment, before suddenly reaching out and pulling her away.

"Watch out!" Hermione spun round to see a wall of fire heading towards them, but Harry was seemingly oblivious.

"_Harry_!" She screamed.

They ran, Hermione gripping hold of Draco's hand and dragging them along. Harry tried to hex Draco, but she deflected it.

"He's on our side now, Harry! Don't ask questions, just _run_!" Suddenly, Harry grabbed a pair of broomsticks from atop the pile and threw one to Ron. Hermione shoved Draco towards Harry's broomstick, before jumping behind Ron herself. They soared into the air, swooping and flying above the flames, until they heard a cry from below. It was Goyle, who they swooped back down to help. Harry did one last spin, catching the diadem with the use of his Quidditch skills, before flying out of the room. When they were out in the corridor, Malfoy fell off the broom and led on the floor of the corridor. Ron ran over and kicked in hard, turning in shock when Hermione shouted for him to stop it.

"No!" She said, leaning down and helping him to his feet. "He's on our side now! Aren't you?"

"Yes." He muttered, although he sounded somewhat reluctant about it. "Listen V...Granger...thanks." Hermione grinned.

"No problem. But please, for Severus' sake and mine, try not to let yourself get killed." Hermione watched as Draco took off at a sprint down the corridor – she knew, although Ron and Harry no doubt did not believe him, that he was telling the truth. The diadem, to all of their relief, had seemingly been destroyed by the Fiendfyre that Crabbe had conjured, and so they were free to join the battle once more. At that moment, the din of duelling filled the corridor, and they turned to see that Death Eaters had entered the building. Fred and Percy were there, duelling with two Death Eaters. They ran to join them and, in the chaos, there was an explosion, sending them all reeling. Hermione was almost buried beneath one of the Death Eaters and a pile of rubble but, when she managed to pull herself free, she saw something that seemed to make her heart break a thousand times. Ron and Percy were leaning over Fred, Percy shaking him furiously as Ron gripped onto his older brother's hand.

"_No – no – no!"_ Harry shouted behind her, running forwards and falling to the floor besides Ron. Hermione was stood, frozen in one place. Fred was dead.

Hermione did not know how everything continued, but it did. They were all soon too distracted by other things, running off and leaving Percy to deal with Fred. But Hermione knew that Ron's mind was not concentrated on the task ahead, she could see that he had left it with his brothers, left it with the empty look that had filled Fred's eyes...Hermione pulled them both to one side and hid behind a tapestry, restraining Ron as he tried to break free and follow Percy.

"Listen to me – listen, Ron!" She shouted helplessly. _"Ron, we're the only ones who can end it! Please – Ron – we need the snake, we've got to kill the snake!"_

"_I want to go and_ _fight_." Ron hissed. Hermione could feel hot tears splashing down her face.

"_We will fight! We'll have to, to reach the snake! But let's not lose sight, now, of what we're supposed to be d – doing! We're the only ones who can end it."_ She wiped her tears on the sleeve of her robe imagining, even as she spoke, that Severus was lying somewhere, just as still and as lifeless as Fred had been. She turned to Harry suddenly. _"You need to find out where Voldemort is, because he'll have the snake with him, won't he? Do it Harry – look inside him!" _

Hermione turned to Ron as Harry's eyes glazed over, gently wiping the tears and the grime smeared across his cheeks, before planting a gentle kiss on his forehead. Harry let out a sudden gasp, and the two of them whipped round to speak to him.

"_He's in the Shrieking Shack. The snake's with him, it's got some sort of magical protection around it. He's just sent Lucius Malfoy to find Snape."_

Hermione felt a chill pass over her, but the small vial of anti-venom seemed to be on fire within the pocket of her robes. Of course...the snake. He had known, hadn't he, that Voldemort might use Nagini as a weapon against him. Hermione shook her head sadly, her heart hammering. They needed to get there fast, to try and kill Nagini before she could...before...she could not bring herself to think it. Suddenly, the tapestry was pulled back and they were revealed to a troupe of angry Death Eaters. They begin to fight, Ron showing more power and anger that Hermione thought she had ever seen. The presence of Harry seemed to be drawing more attention than they could handle, and it was slowing them down. Hermione needed to get to the Shack, needed to get there before...

"_Harry, you get the cloak on!"_ She shouted, but Harry threw it over all three of them and they begin to charge, invisibly, throughout the duelling crowds. Eventually, they got to the Shrieking Shack, creeping quietly up to the second floor where voices could be heard. Hermione was shaking terribly, and she felt as if she could vomit at any moment. She knew that everything hinged on this, that this would spell the end for Harry and for everything else. They hid behind some crates, against which Hermione leant with her eyes closed. She could not bear to watch.

"_I have thought long and hard, Severus...do you know why I have called you back from the battle?"_ Voldemort drawled. Hermione shuddered. His voice was still so pleasant, as if they were having tea again like the very first time they met. She heard Nagini hiss, and her heart skipped a beat.

"_No, My Lord, but I beg you will let me return. Let me find Potter."_

"_You sound like Lucius. But it is of you I wish to speak, Severus, not Harry Potter. You have been very valuable to me."_ Hermione gathered the material of her robes into her fists, digging in her fingernails until they made contact with skin. _"My concern at the moment, Severus, is what will happen when I finally meet the boy."_ Hermione hated to hear the panic in Severus' voice as he replied.

"_My Lord, there can be no question, surely?"_

"_Why did both the wands I have used fail when directed at Harry Potter?"_

"_I – I cannot answer that, my Lord."_

"_I sought a third wand, Severus. The Elder Wand. I took it from its previous master. I took it from the grave of Albus Dumbledore."_

"_My Lord – let me go to the boy – "_

"_You have been a good and faithful servant, and I regret what must happen." _

Hermione felt a tear trickle down her cheek, felt the urge inside her to burst through the crates and attempt to rescue Severus. She could not watch him die, she could _not_.

"_The Elder Wand cannot serve me properly, Severus, because I am not its true master. The Elder Wand belongs to the wizard who kills its last owner. You killed Albus Dumbledore. While you live, Severus, the Elder Wand cannot be truly mine." _

"_My Lord!"_ Snape pleaded. Hermione opened her eyes, as Voldemort waved his wand and released Nagini from her cage. She bit back a scream as the snake approached him, as Voldemort spoke in Parseltongue. The colour seemed to fade from the room as the snake plunged its fangs into Snape's neck, and Hermione's ears seemed to be inexplicably buzzing. She thought, for one horrible moment, that she would faint.

"_I regret it."_ Voldemort said coldly. Snape fell sideways onto the floor with blood gushing from the wound in his neck, pouring onto the floorboards that were thick with dust. Voldemort swept from the room, seemingly with no remorse and no regret.

As soon as he had left, Hermione wasted no time in using magic to push the crates away. She followed Harry as he moved to Snape's side, trying desperately to maintain her composure as he knelt by him. Harry removed the Invisibility cloak, revealing the presence of all three of them. Snape seized Harry's robes suddenly, pulling him closer, and Hermione knelt directly behind him, enabling Severus to see her.

"_Take...it...take...it"_ Snape rasped. Hermione watched as memories poured from Severus, her hands shaking as she conjured a vial and thrust it towards Harry. Snape relinquished his grasp on Harry's robes slightly, as Hermione bit her lip to try and stop the tears that were already streaming down her cheeks.

"Harry, come on." Ron hissed behind them. But Snape still had something left to say. His eyes met Hermione's, and she felt as if she had just been hit by a bolt of lightning, before he rasped:

"_Look...at...me."_

* * *

><p><em>AN: Many thanks for all of those who kindly reviewed the last chapter - I'm grateful for all of them! Everything that is in italics in this chapter has been taken from Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows which you would know, unless you have been living under a rock, was written by J.K Rowling and not a 19 year old students. Many thanks again, please let me know what you think of this chapter!_


	14. An Encounter With The Past

As Harry stood to his feet, staggering backwards away from the now lifeless body of Severus Snape, Hermione took the chance to lurch forwards and empty the vial of anti-venom into his slightly open mouth. She could feel Harry and Ron staring at her, and hastily wiped away the tears. Just as she was about to turn and bark at them to leave her alone, Voldemort's voice reverberated around the room. Hermione gave Snape a gentle shake, but he did not seem to have responded to the potion. Her heart thumped painfully against her chest as she closed her eyes and listened.

"_You have fought valiantly. Lord Voldemort knows how to value bravery. I speak now, Harry Potter, to you. I shall wait for one hour in the Forbidden Forest. If, at the end of that hour, you have not come to me, have not given yourself up, then battle recommences. This time, I shall enter the fray myself, Harry Potter, and I shall find you, and I shall punish every last man, woman and child who has tried to conceal you from me. One hour."_

Hermione turned quickly, wiping another tear from her eyes.

"Harry, you must _go_!" She hissed. "You need to look at those memories...it's _imperative_."

"But, but I – "

"Go _now_!" She shrieked.

"What about you?" Ron asked. "You have to come with us."

"No..._no_! I'm going to stay here, I _need_ to stay here and...and..." She sobbed, wiping at her eyes again.

"Hermione, I don't understand..."

"You will when you see those memories, Harry, everything will become clear if you just look at them." Ron patted Harry's shoulder, as if to force him away from Hermione, and she listened intently as they left the Shrieking Shack. She leant forwards, relieved by the silence, and wiped away some of the blood that covered Snape's face, her hand shaking as she did.

"Severus..." She whispered imploringly. "Severus, _please_."

Harry made his way up to the Headmaster's office, running faster than he had ever ran in his entire life. He reached the stone gargoyle which, as he had expected, demanded to hear the password.

"_Dumbledore!"_ Harry blurted, simply because it had been the person who he longed to see. The gargoyle, however, responded, and slid aside to reveal the familiar staircase.

Harry came to a juddering halt when he arrived in the office to see it completely empty. None of the headmasters were in their frames – not even Dumbledore, whom he had been yearning to see. He took a moment to look around the office, surprised to find that it remained unchanged. Something that was new, however, was a stone paperweight in the shape of a snake – it had clearly belonged to Snape. For a reason that was not even apparent to Harry, he picked up the small item and pocketed it; he would give it to Hermione. After seeing how distraught she had been, he thought that she would like something to remind her. Harry spotted the Pensieve in the corner, and lugged it over to the desk. He tipped Snape's memories into them, feeling a churning sensation in his stomach that he could not identify. He found that he was reluctant to enter them, to discover things that would no doubt change his outlook on everything.

When Harry had plunged into the memories, he found himself tumbling forwards into a sunlit playground that would have been quite pretty, if it were not for the shadow of an ugly factory that fell over it. Harry watched as a young Snape conversed with a young redhead and a mean-looking girl who were clearly his own mother and aunt. Snape and his mother had been friends, best friends if the later scenes of them running and talking together were any proof. It also explained to him where his aunt Petunia's hatred of magic had come from – she had been jealous of his mother and of Snape, of the magic that they were both able to do and the secrets that they shared.

The memories of his mother and Snape at Hogwarts interested him the most. One in particular stood out, when they were walking across the castle courtyard bickering about something together.

"_I thought we were supposed to be friends?"_ Snape demanded. "_Best friends?"_

"_We are, Sev, but I don't like some of the people you're hanging around with! Do you know what they did to Mary Macdonald the other day?_"

"_It was nothing, it was a laugh that's all."_

"_It was Dark Magic, and if you think that's funny..."_

"_What about the stuff Potter and his mates get up to?"_

"_What's Potter got to do with anything? Why are you so obsessed with them? Why do you care what they're doing?"_

"_I'm just trying to show you they're not as wonderful as everyone seems to think they are."_ Snape had stared at his mother so intently that he seemed to make her blush.

Harry watched memory after memory and, the more he saw, the more he began to understand. Severus Snape had been in love with his mother since childhood. They had grown up together, and Snape had continuously seen to it that his mother had grown more and more disenchanted with him, until she had hated him completely. Harry watched in horror as a slightly older Snape fell to the floor in front of Dumbledore, his face full of agony.

"_I come with a warning – no, a request...please..."_

"_What request could a Death Eater make of me?"_

"_The prophecy..."_

"_Ah, yes. How much did you relay to Lord Voldemort?"_

"_Everything I heard! That is why...it is for that reason...he thinks it means Lily Evans! He is going to hunt her down...kill them all."_

"_If she means so much to you,"_ Dumbledore said, _"surely Lord Voldemort will spare her? Could you not ask for mercy for the mother, in exchange of the son?"_

"_I have...I have asked him." _

"_You disgust me."_ Harry was taken aback by the contempt in the Headmaster's voice.

"_Hide them all..."_ Snape begged. _"Keep her...them safe." _

"_And what will you give me in return, Severus?" _

"_Anything." _

Harry watched as the years flew by, as Snape promised to help keep Harry safe as penance for what he had done, as he complained as Harry started school. He was taken aback as he watched Snape try to heal Dumbledore's withered hand, even more so when the headmaster made Severus promise to kill him. Harry watched intently during one particular scene, one scene that would change his life forever.

"_There will come a time after my death,"_ Dumbledore explained, _"When Lord Voldemort will seem to fear for the life of his snake. If there comes a time when Lord Voldemort keeps it safe behind him then, I think, it will be safe to tell Harry."_

"_Tell him what?"_

"_That on the night Lord Voldemort tried to kill him, a fragment of Voldemort's soul was blasted from the whole and latched itself onto Harry. While that fragment of soul, unmissed by Voldemort, remains attached to, and protected by Harry, Lord Voldemort cannot die."_

"_So the boy...the boy must die?"_

"_And Voldemort himself must do it." _

The memory faded and, for a moment, Harry thought it was the end. He stood in blackness for a moment, contemplating what he had just heard until, suddenly, there was a rush of colour and sound and light. He saw Hermione sitting in a dirty house, begging Snape to help her, saw her taking a potion as she was watched by Snape and transforming into a black-haired, dark-eyed witch. He watched again as she rowed with Snape about her freedom, as she watched the memories that he too had just seen and swore to be Snape's friend. Harry could not believe it as he saw Hermione and Snape stood at his parents' grave as Hermione wept, a rose led atop the wreath that he had left, placed there by Hermione's hand. The colour was almost overwhelming as he saw Hermione pressed against Snape in a forest, her head buried in his robes as, behind her, he and Ron dived into the lake to collect the sword. It flashed again to an image of them at Lovegood's house, of Hermione and Snape laughing together with Aberforth Dumbledore over drinks in the Hog's Head, then of Hermione standing so close to Snape, close enough that they looked as if they might be about to kiss.

And then...then they _were_ kissing. Snape's hands cupping Hermione's face, hers entangled in his long hair, before they broke away and Snape commanded her to look at him... "Look...at...me." He'd said that just before he'd died, hadn't he? He had been talking to Hermione...Harry willed the memory to end as Hermione took Snape's hand and appeared to be leading him to bed...The memory jumped quickly to Hermione sitting in a battered chair wearing a dressing gown that clearly belonged to Snape, telling him that she had feelings for him but that it was better for the two of them if it ended, that she would not compete with Lily Potter...And then Harry watched as Snape ran through the forest, looking for her desperately, and his heart pounded as Snape looked towards Hogwarts glittering in the moonlight and screamed her name into the darkness... "_Hermione_!"

* * *

><p>"<em>Lily<em>?"

Severus had expected that, after being bitten in the neck by a venomous snake, he would have felt some pain. He was surprised, therefore, to find that he could feel nothing, as he re-gained awareness that he was led on a cold, hard floor. Slowly opening his eyes, and gradually raising himself into a sitting position, he realised that he was surrounded by nothing but light – white, pure, endless light that almost seemed to hurt his eyes. He frowned as he stood up, confused as to where he was and why he seemed to be wearing a white shirt and a pair of white trousers; neither of which he actually possessed. As Severus turned on the spot, he saw suddenly that he was not alone. In the distance, he could see a flash of red and, as he approached, he came to realise who it was. She was sat on a familiar swing, smiling at him warmly and looking the very image of an angel – whether it was due to the realisation that the light seemed to originate from _her_, or the fact that she was even there at all, Snape felt a little overwhelmed.

"Yes." She replied quietly, the smile remaining upon her face. "I've been waiting for you, Sev."

"I can only presume I am dead." She slowly tilted her head to one side.

"Something like that...but really, _that _decision can only be made by you."

"I do not understand. Where is this place?" She stood and walked towards him, stopping but a few feet away. He found himself anxious to reach out and touch her, to confirm that she was real and not just some twisted figment of his dying imagination.

"I'm not sure where it is...but you're here because you have a choice. You can choose to come with me now, to take my hand and walk away from it all, or you can decide to return..."

A distant noise suddenly interrupted the peace; it was the sound of crying, of shouting, that seemed as if it was travelling from miles away. It ended just as swiftly as it had begun.

"Ah yes," Severus replied, smirking slightly, "the difficult choice between heaven and hell...how _must _one be expected to choose?" Lily laughed.

"You always did have a dry sense of humour." She sighed. "My real purpose here is to try and help you to choose. I have to tell you in all fairness, Sev, that I am highly biased towards the choice to live."

"I see. You do not wish for my presence to sully your perfect heaven, is that it?"

"Most certainly not." She replied. "I simply believe that you have not yet given all you are able to, Severus – that there is still too much left for life to give _you_."

"These past seven years at least, Lily, I have given towards the protection and education of your only son. What more is there to be done, now that it is all over and my task is finished?"

"Many things." Lily narrowed her eyes. "I've been watching you Severus, and I know that your life is not as miserable as you claim it to be. _I _know that there's something worth living for, if only you'd give it a chance."

"To what are you referring?"

"'To whom' would perhaps be a little more appropriate, Severus, as I am referring to Hermione Granger."

"How do you...? How can you...?"

"_Know_ about her? _Speak_ about her?" Lily smiled widely. "There's nothing to be ashamed of, you know, in loving someone."

"I do not love her." Severus growled.

"No, you don't..." Snape watched carefully as Lily walked back over to the swing and sat down, gently beginning to rock backwards and forwards. Severus too moved forwards and sat on the swing next to hers, mimicking her motions. She turned to him, a questioning look upon her face. "Why is that? You could fall in love with her quite easily, you know...I can tell just from watching you."

"I swore to Albus that I would help your son. I devoted my life to it, to your memory. To...to fall in love...such a thing would dishonour it." Lily laughed, swinging forwards much higher than she had before, and Severus kicked his legs to match her. He felt so odd, doing something as childish as that; something that he had not done in a long time.

"You are still as strange as ever! Love is something so truly honourable, that it overrides everything else. It is more important. Surely my death should have taught you that?"

"It taught me that all good things are snatched away."

"You are so terribly melancholy! How can you be so miserable in a place as beautiful as this?" Lily threw back her head, her hair blowing in an invisible wind that Severus could neither feel nor hear. It reminded him of Hermione, on the evening when he had approached her unseen, and watched her swinging so freely in the playground.

"What is it that you are truly trying to tell me, Lily?" Severus asked suddenly, bringing himself to an abrupt stop. "You have been insinuating it since the very moment I...awoke." She too stopped, pausing for a moment, before standing and coming to kneel in front of Severus. She took her hands in his, and he could not fight the urge to pull them away. She did not look offended when he did, but simply sat back and placed her hands upon her lap.

"I know that you will choose to return to life," She said simply, "because I am going to ask you to. This shall be the last favour I will ask of you and, when you have done it, you will be free."

"Free? From what?"

"From me." She smiled somewhat sadly. "It has been 17 years since I died, and many more before that since you and I...You were not to blame for my death, Severus – the guilt should never have been yours. You _are _free from it now...you owe nothing to me, and I expect nothing of you."

He stared at her for a moment; it could have been an hour or a day, a month or a year. It felt like an eternity to Severus, until he finally found the power to speak.

"Hermione...?"

"Will be there when you wake, I don't doubt." She sighed. "And when you _do _wake, it is time to tell her that you're able to forget the past and move onto the future."

Everything seemed to be swimming before Severus' very eyes, the white light momentarily disappearing as a grey, rotting room took its place. He blinked and it swam into focus, but even then the edges seemed to fade.

"You are simply a figment of my imagination, aren't you? This is all in my mind, isn't it? It is not real."

"It may be in your mind, Severus, but why on earth should that mean it isn't real?

Hermione gave a juddering sigh, once again stroking Severus' face and pleading with him to wake up. She had ceased crying, but her eyes stung and she longed to close them, to join him in what appeared to be only a restful sleep. It was strange, sitting there in the silence of the Shrieking Shack and knowing that, so nearby, the noise would be thunderous and a battle raged. Hermione thought that she preferred it that way, being alone with Severus and distanced from everyone else – after all, that was how it had been for quite a long time, and they had always had their own, personal battles to fight.

Hermione did not know how long she sat there – no one came to the Shrieking Shack, and she did not wear a watch. She had begun to pace, and was walking the length of the room in long, careful steps until, suddenly, Severus gave a loud groan. Hermione ran over to him, dropping to her knees and gently placing a hand on his chest. He moaned again, before slowly opening his eyes.

"Her...Hermione? Hermione?"

"Yes! Yes, I'm here...I'm here!"

"Water." He mumbled groggily. "I need water." Hermione took out her wand and conjured a glass, before magically filling it with water. He sipped it carefully, wincing slightly as he swallowed.

"I'm so glad you're alright." She whispered, a little self-conscious that she was once again crying. "I thought you were...I _thought_...I was sure I hadn't made it in time."

"I am grateful that you did." His voice was gruff and, if possible, deeper than it had been before. "Would you heal the wounds on my neck, and clean the blood?" Hermione frowned slightly.

"I've never really done any healing spells before; I know the theory, but..."

"I trust you." Hermione gently placed a hand upon his neck, before dragging her wand along the gaping holes. It healed, but the skin was a little puckered.

"There'll be a scar." She said quietly, brushing her finger along it.

"I do not mind; I was hardly a piece of art to begin with." Hermione smiled, before waving her wand again and cleaning the blood from the floor.

"Harry took your memories...he's probably watched them by now."

"I am glad. It means that all of this shall soon be coming to an end." He looked at her carefully for a moment, a look so intense that it seemed to make Hermione's heart beat just that little bit faster. "You must forgive me." He said quietly, after a moment.

"What for?"

"I gave Potter some extra memories, besides the ones that Albus instructed me to give. I gave him memories of...of you and I." Hermione did not say anything. "In the event that I did not recover, I wanted him to know that – "

Before he could finish, Severus was interrupted by a loud voice that evidently echoed everywhere across Hogwarts and Hogsmeade. It was Lord Voldemort.

"_Harry Potter is dead. He was killed as he ran away, trying to save himself while you lay down your lives for him. We bring you his body as proof that your hero is gone. The battle is won. You have lost half of your fighters. The Boy Who Lived is finished. There must be no more war. Anyone who continues to resist, man, woman or child, will be slaughtered, as will every member of their family."_ Hermione shook her head sadly, her lips trembling as tears begin to steam down her cheeks.

"Harry..." She whispered.

"Have faith, Hermione, that all will be well."

"How can it be?" She asked. "It's over." Snape struggled to his feet, before bending down and offering Hermione is hand. She stood too, and they faced one another solemnly.

"You must return to the castle, return to the members of the Order that remain."

"But what will you do?" Hermione asked. "Come with me, join us and fight!"

"I cannot." Severus replied quickly, before giving a sigh. "I do not wish to."

"But then...what are you going to do?"

"I am to disappear. Severus Snape is, in the eyes of the rest of the world, dead. I have created a false identity for myself, and I shall travel the world and finally take the opportunity to live a proper life." Hermione smiled sadly. She wanted to go with him, to beg him to let her, but she did not have the guts to do it. She swallowed nervously.

"I...I'll return here to say goodbye. You mustn't leave before I do." For a moment, Hermione thought that a flicker of disappointment flickered across Snape's face but, no sooner had she thought it, the look had disappeared.

"I shall wait here." Hermione reached out and took his hand in hers.

"You must promise."

"I swear that I shall stay here." Hermione smiled sadly.

"Thank you." She squeezed his hand gently, before letting go and running from the Shrieking Shack, leaving Severus to stand there alone and wait.

* * *

><p><em>AN: I just couldn't bear to let Snape die - I didn't think he should have done in the book either, he deserved a fresh start I think. Anyway, many thanks to all of those who read and reviewed the last chapter, please do the same and let me know what you think of this one! As with the previous chapter, passages in italics are taken from Harry Potter and The Deathly Hallows. Thanks again! :)_


	15. A Final Farewell

Hermione felt sick as she speedily rushed up the hill back to Hogwarts, stumbling and tripping over logs and loose stones as she did. She felt as if her head was disembodied from her body, as if it were someone else who was scrambling around in the dark, trying to get back to the castle with their life intact. Her mind was still in the Shrieking Shack, still with Severus, but she was so confused, so concerned. She found it difficult to confess, even to herself, but she knew that she would find life difficult without Severus. The very idea of him disappearing, never to be contacted by her again, sickened her. Ten months they had spent together; Severus Snape had been the only person that Hermione could depend on, her only friend, her only...she didn't want to give it a name, just because she still wasn't entirely sure what exactly _it_ was. Could it really take that little time to connect two people so inexorably that it was excruciating for them to part? She supposed it could – that was, after all, exactly how she felt.

Hermione approached the school carefully and quietly seeing, as she did, that the Death Eaters were lined up in front of the castle doors, Hagrid seemingly in front of them. She approached at an angle, aiming to join the people who were spilling out of the Entrance Hall and onto the lawn to see the spectacle. That was when she saw him. Harry. He was lying at Hagrid's feet, still and silent...dead. She stopped in shock, her entire body turning cold. That was when a loud rumble came from the distance and, suddenly, Grawp was staggering towards the crowd, followed by Centaurs who shot arrows towards the Death Eaters. Hermione took the opportunity of the distraction to join the crowds as Neville, who had been bound by Lord Voldemort, broke free and suddenly seemed to be holding the sword of Gryffindor. Hermione watched as he lifted it up above his head, before bringing it down and slicing off Nagini's head. But there was not time to focus on the fact that the final Horcrux had been destroyed, as Hagrid distracted everyone.

"_Harry!" He bellowed. "Harry – where's Harry?" _

The battle re-commenced, chaos seeming to take over the entire castle once more. Hermione ran into the Entrance Hall with the others and began to duel with the Death Eaters, helping George and Lee Jordan to defeat Yaxley with cutting swipes of her wand. She hesitated for a moment, standing still in the battle as she watched Molly Weasley duel with Bellatrix Lestrange. Hermione had never thought much of Molly as a witch before – only as a mother and a wife – but she saw then that she was truly powerful, and Hermione felt a surge of joy as Molly killed her, hissing with such venom:

"_You-will-never-touch-our-children-again_!"

But suddenly, the triumph that Hermione felt quickly died, when she saw that Voldemort had turned his attention to Molly. She was surprised to see him look so distraught, for Hermione had thought that a man so evil was incapable of feeling anything but hatred. He lifted up his arm and, for one horrifying moment, Hermione thought that he was about to kill Molly.

"_Protego_!" Hermione, like everyone else, was baffled by the source of the Shield Charm, until she turned and saw Harry emerging from beneath the Invisibility Cloak. Her heart seemed to soar, threatening to burst out of her chest from sheer joy of seeing him alive. The cheers and screams seemed to echo around the room until, suddenly, silence fell.

"_I don't want anyone to try to help. It's got to be me!"_ Harry said, as he and Voldemort began to circle one another.

"_Potter doesn't work like that_." Voldemort hissed. "_Who are you going to use as a shield today, Potter?"_

"_Nobody. It's just you and me. Neither can live while the other survives, and one of us is about to leave for good..."_

"_You think it will be you who shall survive, do you, the boy has survived by accident, and because Dumbledore was pulling the strings_?"

"_You won't be killing anyone else tonight_." Harry simply said. "_You won't be able to kill any of them ever again. Don't you get it? I was ready to die to stop you hurting these people_."

"_But you did not!"_

"_I meant to, and that's what did it. You can't torture them, you can't touch them. You don't learn from your mistakes, Riddle, do you?"_

"_You dare – "_

"_I know things that you don't know, Tom Riddle. Want to hear some, before you make another big mistake?"_

Harry and Lord Voldemort continued to circle one another, as Harry informed him of the true extent of Dumbledore's planning, of his knowledge that helped to keep Harry alive.

"_Dumbledore is dead!_" Voldemort shouted.

"_Yes, but you didn't have him killed. He chose his own manner of dying, chose it months before he died, arranged the whole thing with the man you thought was your servant_." Hermione felt a chill run down her spine – Harry was going to talk about Severus.

"_What childish dream is this_?" Voldemort hissed.

"_Severus Snape wasn't yours. Snape was Dumbledore's. Dumbledore's from the moment you started hunting down my mother. You never saw Snape cast a Patronus, did you, Riddle? Snape's Patronus was a doe, the same as my mother's, because he loved her for nearly all of his life, from the time when they were children."_ Hermione bit her lip, feeling her eyes welling with tears. She clenched her wand in her pocket, so tightly that she was almost afraid of snapping it.

Lord Voldemort and Harry continued to row, but Hermione could not listen. She simply thought of Snape. She wanted to shout to everyone what a good man he was, to tell them of the things that he had done to help Hermione, the extent to which he went to protect Harry. She wanted to tell them of how she _loved _him. But, of course, she did not. It was not appropriate – everything was to be revealed at the right time, and she was certain that there would never be a right time to disclose that. Suddenly, both Harry and Voldemort raised their wands.

"_Avada Kedavra_!

"_Expelliarmus_!"

The bang was enormous, shocking everyone in the room, and light rebounded around the hall until, finally, Lord Voldemort fell backwards and hit the floor. His body was feeble, his eyes vacant. He was dead. There was but a heartbeat of silence, before the hall suddenly erupted in cheers and screams of celebrations. Hermione charged forwards as fast as she could and leapt at Harry, throwing her arms around his neck before being joined, moments later, by Ron. It seemed as if the rest of the room enveloped them, before arms grabbed and pulled at Harry and carried him off into the crowd. Ron reached out to Hermione, and she took his hand with a grin.

"He did it!" She squealed delightedly. "He finally did it!"

"I still can't believe it – I can't believe it's over." Ron replied. They sat at a table, taking a moment to just relax, although it was almost impossible with the noise and commotion. "Where were you? I looked for you for everywhere." Ron asked when they were sitting.

"I was...I was in the Shrieking Shack." Ron looked at her for a moment, a small frown of confusion on his face.

"I don't understand what went on...between you and Snape. You were so upset when he – "

"Ten months is a long time, Ron, and when you're living in such close quarters with someone for that length of time...it is inevitable that you'll become close."

"Severus is..." She cleared her throat, remembering to maintain the impression that he was dead. "_Was _a dear friend. I cared for him very, very much." Hermione turned her head slightly and saw Draco sat on a nearby table with his parents. They looked very much out of place and very much afraid. Hermione excused herself from Ron and went over.

"What do you want?" Lucius Malfoy muttered darkly. "They sent _you _to arrest us?"

"No...I came to speak to Draco." Hermione was surprised when he leapt to his feet and drew her into a hug that, although stiff, was actually very warm and friendly. She stepped back and smiled.

"I'm glad you're alright. I was afraid that someone would see you fighting for the right side and hurt you."

"They did." Draco replied, turning slightly to show Hermione a painful-looking burn on his left cheek. "But Madame Pomfrey thinks it will heal in no time, if I just continue applying the salve. Are _you_ alright?"

"Yes...yes I am." She smiled. "I'm in something of a daze, really."

"Where's Severus? Is he alright?"

"He..." Hermione bit her lip. "I..." Thankfully, she was prevented from having to answer, for she felt a tap on her shoulder and turned to see Ron standing there. He looked at the floor to his right slightly and, following his eye-line, Hermione saw a familiar pair of battered trainers; Harry was hiding beneath the Invisibility Cloak.

"Want to come and find a bit of peace and quiet?" He asked.

The three of them climbed he marble staircase, and continued upwards on the familiar journey to the Headmaster's Office. When they entered, Hermione was surprised to see that it was more-or-less as she and Severus had left it; the only exception was that the Pensieve was stood on the desk. Suddenly, the portraits erupted in a round of applause and cheers, but the most proud headmaster was undoubtedly Dumbledore, who had a tear on his cheek. Harry held up his hands to silence them.

"Congratulations, Harry!" He said. "Congratulations _all_ of you. You played your part excellently, Hermione." She bowed her head and smiled in spite of herself.

"It's lucky that everything worked out as you planned." Hermione placed her hand gently on Harry's shoulder.

"I never doubted that it would, Miss Granger." Hermione's eyes flitted across Snape's desk, looking desperately for something. She felt a little sick, however, when she realised that the object she was searching for was not there.

"It's gone..." She whispered sadly to herself. Harry turned to look at her.

"What has?"

"There was...there was a paperweight on the desk...in the form of a snake. It's gone, but I don't know why. Unless..."

"I've got it." Harry replied, delving his hand into his pocket. He looked a little bashful as he took the object out and handed it to her. The snake uncoiled itself and brushed its head almost lovingly against Hermione's finger. "I don't know why I took it...I just thought you might...want it."

"I do." She said, smiling to herself. "Thank you."

"Perhaps you three had better go back downstairs." Albus said from the portrait. "I am sure there is much celebrating to do, as well as grieving." Harry nodded.

"You're right. But I'll be back, sir...there are still questions I have to ask. Many questions."

"And I will answer them as best I can." Harry and Ron turned to leave, but Hermione reached out to stop them.

"I'd like to...to collect a few things."

"Oh right...okay."

Hermione walked through the familiar door into the sitting room, a little surprised when Harry and Ron followed her silently. It was so strange to see the room, looking as it always had, when it felt like years since she had last been there. So much had changed since then...it almost felt like a step backwards to be there. Ron and Harry looked around the room; they saw the two glasses on the table next to the bottle of Firewhiskey, the books piled haphazardly on the shelf, Hermione's cardigan slung over a chair, the Daily Prophet from the day before with the crossword partially filled in. She could see their surprise at how domestic it all looked, at the fact that she had really lived a life there – a happy one, if not a little lonely.

"Did you sit in here together?" Ron asked, frowning a little.

"Yes." Hermione replied, smiling slightly. "We ate dinner here sometimes...read together, talked, laughed. It was normal." She shrugged.

"I can't imagine it." Ron admitted. "I mean, I know he turned out to be sort of good and everything, but it was still _Snape_."

Hermione ignored him, simply turning around and heading towards the room that had been hers. She waved her wand and cast a charm upon her bag, the same one that she had used on the one that Harry and Ron had taken with them, and began shovelling clothes, shoes and books into it. The boys followed her silently as she went back into the sitting room and did the same, but stopped when Hermione came to a halt outside another door. It was Snape's bedroom. She had never been in there, not in the whole ten months that they had spent together and, for some unfathomable reason, she was now a little nervous about it. Giving a short sigh, she turned the handle and stepped inside, a little surprised by what she found. It was just like her room, identical in fact; the same sparse furniture, the same plain bedding. It lacked any kind of personality except, of course, for the books. Books of all shapes and sizes stood on almost every spare shelf space; books about everything from muggle science and theology to regency romances and Gothic horror. Hermione waved her wand and watched as they slowly piled up inside the bag, which was now too heavy to carry; she waved her wand again, and the bag began to float. Opening the wardrobe, the few items of clothing and pairs of shoes also flew into the bag.

After half an hour of walking through all of the rooms, Hermione had collected everything she thought she or Severus might need. The three of them stood in silence in the sitting room, which now seemed oddly hollow and soulless. Harry was staring at Hermione carefully, as she looked around the room.

"Why does this feel like some kind of goodbye?" He blurted suddenly. Hermione shifted nervously. It _was _a goodbye, but she somehow couldn't bring herself to tell them that it was. She had hoped that she could return to the Shrieking Shack without alerting anyone's attention, that she could simply slip away into the night without having to directly hurt anyone. Hermione licked her lips nervously.

"I'm saying goodbye to this place. I've lived here for a while now...it became my home." Hermione gave a small sigh and turned to the boys. Her heart seemed to ache as she looked at them, knowing that it would possibly be the very last time. She could not understand how they had left her so easily, all those months ago; it was almost too difficult.

"I don't think I've said it yet, but...I'm so proud of you both. For everything you've done; going to the ministry, destroying the Horcruxes, escaping from Malfoy Manor and breaking into Gringott's...You were brilliant – _both _of you." She took hold of their hands and squeezed them tightly.

"We're sorry that we left you." Harry said honestly, looking deep into her eyes. She smiled broadly.

"I was sorry that you did too." She replied frankly. "But you must know...you must know that I don't regret what happened to me. I don't regret it at all." Harry smiled a little sadly.

"I know. I...I saw it in the memories. But I still don't understand.

"I don't understand it either." She said simply. "But it's the truth nonetheless."

They left the Headmaster's quarters and slowly made their way down to the Entrance Hall. The way they talked, the way they laughed, it was almost possible to pretend that it was a normal evening at Hogwarts – until, of course, they saw the destruction, the visible signs that a battle had been taking place but an hour or so ago. When they arrived in the Entrance Hall, Hermione came to a stop. Harry and Ron turned to look at her questioningly, as she took one last minute to make sure she was firm in her choice. She could hear the noise and bustle to her left, coming from the celebration that was taking place in the Great Hall, but to her right was the silence, the darkness of the grounds that led outside the safety of the castle walls. She hesitated, suddenly struck with an indecisiveness that she couldn't seem to shake. Ron stepped forwards and placed a hand on her shoulder, frowning slightly.

"Is everything alright?" Hermione looked up at him, with a small sad smile.

"Yes, everything's fine. I just need...I need a little fresh air. Go into the Hall, there's no need to wait for me."

"Are you sure?" Harry asked. "We can come with you, if you want."

"I'm sure. I'll only be a few minutes...really." The boys shrugged and turned to enter the Hall, but Hermione shouted after them. "I love you both, you know – really, I do."

"We love you too." Harry said, turning back slightly to look at her. They entered the Hall again, sharing a look that showed just how crazy they thought she was. Hermione smiled and watched them leave, their heads bent together, before turning and walking out of the castle.

Hermione felt a little trepidation as she entered the Shrieking Shack, not entirely sure what she would see there. She ascended the stairs and entered the small room in which she had left Severus and, for one horrifying moment, thought that he had gone. He stepped out from the shadows after hearing her gasp, a solemn expression on his face. She noticed that he still had blood upon his collar, and mentally scolded herself for not cleaning his clothing too.

"I did not expect you to return." She laughed slightly.

"I said I would. I told you once that I would never turn my back on a friend."

"And now you are here...to say goodbye." Hermione frowned and gave a sigh. He seemed so stiff, so sombre – as if they had reverted back to being two people who barely knew one another. Hermione stepped forwards carefully, taking his hand in hers. She saw him flinch slightly, but was not sure why.

"I'm not here to say _goodbye_." She replied carefully. "I intend to come with you...if you'll have me."

"Why would you wish to come with me?" He asked, his voice low and quiet. "You have been reunited with your friends, the battle is over. You owe nothing to me now."

"You're right. But I'm not coming because I owe you anything, I want to come, because I..." She gave a frustrated sigh, dropping his hand and turning away from him slightly. "You _must _know how I feel about you." He placed his finger beneath her chin and turned her head, forcing her to look at him.

"I do not." Hermione gave a small shriek of frustration.

"I'm falling in love with you." She said quietly, suddenly feeling ridiculous. They had had ten months together, most of it spent hating one another and the rest trying to plan their survival and help Harry to do the same. It had been one night, and a few lingering glances and gentle touches. Why did Hermione suddenly think she was in love with him? "Or at least...or at least I think I am."

"Hermione..." She turned to face him again, feeling as if her cheeks were on fire with the blush.

"I don't expect you to return my feelings. I know that...Lily...I..." Hermione let out a gasp when, suddenly, Snape bent down and kissed her. He cupped her face in his hands, before brushing them upwards and tangling his fingers in her hair. Hermione gently pushed him away, looking up questioningly. "I don't..."

"I have finally come to realise that I cannot spend my entire life with my mind buried in the past. Lily was important..._is _important, but she is no longer here and I am free of whatever ties had bound me to her." He frowned. "I may not be able to say I love you now, but I know that soon I shall." Hermione smiled and reached up onto her tiptoes, planting a gentle kiss on Severus' lips.

"That's enough for me."

* * *

><p><em>AN: So here is the final chapter, although there is still an epilogue left to come! Many thanks to all of those who read and reviewed the last chapter, it was much appreciated and would be more so if you could do the same for this one! As with the last few chapters, all passages in italics were taken from Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows. Thanks! :)_


	16. Nineteen Years Later

It was the first of September and, as usual, Platform 9 and ¾ was buzzing with life and activity. Students and parents alike were milling about, as the white steam from the Express hovered across the platform and created a dense haze. Harry, as he had done many times before, emerged through the barrier and stepped out onto the platform. He looked around, a grin on his face as he took in the familiar surroundings. He felt a pang of jealousy as he saw young and innocent first years clambering aboard the train, wishing that he could be in their place. He'd give anything to do it all again if he could. Suddenly, jolting him from his reminiscing, Harry felt something ram sharply into the back of his legs and, after stumbling forwards, turned to see his son Albus standing behind him, peering out from behind his luggage with a sheepish grin on his face.

"Sorry dad, mum told me it would be okay to go. She said you're not supposed to stay standing in front of the barrier."

"And she's right." A voice added, as Ginny swept gracefully through onto the platform, holding their daughter's hand. "But your dad will never learn, no matter how often you tell him!" Moments later, James also barged through the barrier, swatting his younger brother over the head and making his mum jump.

"What's everyone hanging around for?" He asked cheekily, flashing his family a grin. "Let's go and find Uncle Ron."

It did not take long, for it was easy to identify the noisy red-headed rabble in the crowd. Ron stood in the centre of the platform, his arm slung easily around his wife's waist as their daughter chattered to them both and their son stared moodily at everyone. Ron met his wife Maisie, a muggle, about five years after the war when Harry took him on a night out in muggle London. Thankfully, she had been very open-minded about Ron being a wizard, and they'd got married just one year later. Harry, Ginny and the kids approached, greeting each other with warm embraces and lots of laughter.

"I can't believe she's finally going to Hogwarts." Ron said, looking at Rose who was chatting animatedly to James and Albus. "I'd love to do it all again."

"Hopefully their time there'll be a bit quieter than ours was." Harry replied laughingly.

"Too right! It was still a laugh, until...you know."

"Yeah. I wouldn't change it for anything though." Harry said quietly, giving a sigh. He and Ron shared a meaningful look, clearly both thinking the same thing. _What about Hermione_?

It was at times like that, when everyone was gathered together, that her absence became more noticeable, painful all over again like it had been the first time. That night, when they had parted ways in the Entrance Hall, Harry and Ron waited an hour for her return before they gathered a search party and set out to look for her. They had trawled the castle, the village, the Shrieking Shack, but could find no evidence of her anywhere. It seemed, to everyone, that she had disappeared into thin air. Like ten months before, Hermione Granger was nowhere to be found. Harry was a little suspicious of her whereabouts, particularly as they found no trace of Severus Snape's body in the Shack either. There was just a faint bloodstain on the floorboards, where Harry had left his body and gone to look at his memories. He never raised his suspicions to anyone, however, for the aurors just assumed that Snape's body had been destroyed by Death Eaters, and none of them had known about the true nature of his and Hermione's relationship, or the fact that he had hidden her in plain sight for the whole duration of the war.

Over the years since then, Harry had continued to discretely look for Hermione. He trawled newspapers, muggle and magical alike, for any sign of her – any article, any picture, just some sign that she was still alive and well. He found nothing. About three years after the battle, Harry began to write to her. He would address the letters to Verity Prince or to Hermione Granger, and in them he would simply write about his life, and beg her to come back and be a part of it again. The letters were always returned to him, the seal unbroken and the message unread. Until, that is, on the tenth anniversary of the battle. He was sitting in his office at the Ministry when the owl came; a brown speckled one that almost looked like an eagle. He recognised the handwriting at once, tearing it open and warding his office so that no one could interrupt. The letter read:

_Dear Harry,_

_Firstly, I have to apologise, for everything. For disappearing the night of the final battle, for not replying to any of your letters, for missing your wedding to Ginny and the birth of your children. In short, I'm sorry for being such a terrible friend. I won't try to explain why I disappeared, but I swear to you that it was a difficult decision. Whilst I do not regret it, I am sorry that it did not permit me to see you and Ron again. _

_Enough with the apologies, I think, and on to the real reason I wrote you this letter. It has been ten years since you defeated Lord Voldemort and, to this day, my husband and I are still grateful for what you did, for the opportunity you gave us to lead the life we do. My husband wishes to insist that this does not mean that he likes you and, he asserts, he never has, but that does not lessen his gratitude or his thanks. You were brave and courageous, Harry, throughout the whole time you battled against him, and I am as proud today as I was all those years ago. _

_It is perhaps a little unfair of me, but I've kept up with your life for the past ten years – at least insofar as what the newspapers told me, and what I could discern from discrete enquiries and gossip. I saw a picture of your children in the newspaper; they're beautiful, and I could not quite believe how much your sons look like you. I myself have a son named Sebastian; he is 2 years old, and already shows signs of magic – I can't help but be a little proud that my son, like his mother, seems to be quite keen to learn._

_In the first few years after Hogwarts, Hadrian and I went to Australia and reunited with my parents there. It was only expected to be short-term, but we stayed there for the next five years. We married in 2003 and, ever since, have toured the world, jumping from one country to the next. That is why it has been so difficult for you to track me, you see, although I know you have tried; we barely stay in one place for longer than a year, and are always careful to cover our tracks. As strange as it may seem, we like living like this – Hadrian enjoys the freedom to relax and I...well I am happy when I am with him. _

_I think I've said enough for now, and I hope that the little I have written has satisfied your curiosity. I am sorry that I cannot be there to help you celebrate ten years; we had intended to return to England for the occasion, but we're currently doing some important work in Tibet. I wish you all the best of health and happiness._

_Yours sincerely,_

_Verity and Hadrian Prince._

Harry had not told anyone about the letter, not even Ginny. He had presumed that Hermione would not want him to, that she would prefer it if he kept it a secret. He still had the letter, however, and occasionally reread it to remind himself that everything was okay; he could almost picture her writing it, her head bent over the parchment as her brown curls tickled the tabletop.

On Platform 9 and ¾, Harry gave a sigh and turned to see his two sons rowing about which house Albus would be in. It had always been a somewhat hot topic in their household, as James had always been intent on sticking to traditional house rivalries, whilst Albus had preferred the newer idea of all getting along together. Ginny did not care which house any of their children were sorted into, but Harry had secretly always harboured the desire that they would be Gryffindors; not that he would ever let Ginny or the children know.

"Come on boys." He said, smiling. "You know that it doesn't matter what house you're in."

"But what if I'm in Slytherin?" Albus asked, his face a little pale. Harry suppressed a small smirk, not surprised to find that James' taunts had succeeded in worrying his brother a little.

"It doesn't matter. One of the bravest men I've ever met was in Slytherin." Albus gave a sigh.

"I suppose..." Harry turned to watch his son as he headed off to join Rose and Hugo, but suddenly stopped when he saw the trio that had just stepped onto the platform. There was a tall man, who had long dark hair that was tied back in a ponytail, a little grey showing at the temples, stood next to a younger woman with waist-length black hair. Their son stood next to them, clutching on to a trolley as if his life depended on it and looking around the platform with wide brown eyes. There was an owl balanced on the trolley, hooting pleasantly to itself, and Harry recognised it immediately. It was brown and speckled. It was her.

He watched them carefully as they crossed the platform together, the two adults chattering and smiling as they approached someone else who was familiar to Harry. It was Draco Malfoy, his receding hairline making him look much more like his father than he ever had before. Like Harry, he seemed stunned to see the couple, freezing on the spot with his mouth slightly ajar as they spoke. The older gentleman patted Draco on the back and smiled at him, motioning to the train and to their son before slipping his arm around his wife's waist. Harry inched closer slightly, just so he could hear them speak.

"I had no idea!" Draco said. "I thought...well, I don't know what I thought."

"Sebastian is starting his first year." The woman said, ruffling her son's hair fondly. "We contemplated homeschooling him for a while, but eventually decided that it was worth coming back so he could enjoy Hogwarts, the way we both did."

"He looks a lot like his father." Draco said, looking at the man with a smirk on his face. "There's no doubting it." The couple laughed.

"Although, his personality favours his mother's." The man said. "Unfortunately, he asks incessant questions as she once did." She fondly swatted her husband, giving a high laugh.

Draco called over his son Scorpius, who looked so much like Malfoy that Harry had to do a double take. He watched as they introduced the two boys, and they instantly began to chat and laugh together. Harry found himself wishing that his sons would also be friends with Sebastian Prince; he wanted to take Albus over there, to force them to speak so that they would recreate the friendship he and Hermione had once shared. Harry must have been staring quite obviously, for Draco was suddenly pointing and the man and woman turned to look at him. The woman's lip began to quiver, and she bit hard on it as if to stop herself from crying. Harry watched as her husband bent and whispered in her ear, before placing a gentle kiss on her cheek.

Harry was jolted from his thoughts when he felt a tap on his shoulder, and turned to see Ron and Ginny stood behind him. They were both staring in the same direction, Ron with a look of confusion and Ginny with one of shock.

"Who are they?" Ron asked. "I've never seen them before. They could be muggles, I suppose, but why they would know Malfoy, I have no idea..."

"It's her." Ginny whispered. "Isn't it?"

Almost without thinking, Harry left Ron and Ginny behind and set off towards the group. He was a little surprised when the woman turned too, and they came to a stop in the middle, facing one another with matching looks of nervousness and embarrassment.

"Mrs Prince?" Harry mumbled, uncertain as to why he spoke to her so formally. She smiled, obviously bemused by it too.

"Yes. It's nice to see you, _Mr Potter_."

"Why are you here?" He blurted. He felt ridiculous, behaving so erratically; it was his former best friend, someone who he had searched years for, not a silly crush or someone he did not know or like. He wanted to hit himself.

"Seb is starting at Hogwarts." She smiled, motioning to where he stood with his father.

"He looks like...Hadrian." Harry answered, repeating what Draco had said just minutes before.

"Yes, and proud of it he is too." Hermione leant a little closer and lowered her voice. "He can see how we really look, you see, and he knows who we really are. " Harry nodded stiffly.

"Those are my children, standing over there with Ginny." Hermione looked past him, to see Ginny had gathered the children and was watching them carefully. The redhead raised her hand in a wave, a small smile on her lips. "Albus _Severus_ is the tallest one; he'll be in the same year as Sebastian."

Hermione stiffened suddenly, and Harry saw that her husband, who had been pretending to ignore the whole conversation, had turned his head to look at the boy who bore his name.

"You...you named him..."

"Yes." Harry said, almost daring her to say something negative about it. He stood even taller when, seconds later, the man himself walked over to join them. He put an arm around his wife's waist, and she leant against him comfortably. "He's called Albus Severus Potter."

"Interesting idea, to join the names of the murderer and the murdered." Snape said a little stiffly, although his voice had been modified so it sounded nothing like Harry remembered.

"They were both good men." Harry replied, staring him directly in the eye. "Men to whom I owe my life." Hermione was grinning almost wildly, her eyes darting from one to the other.

"Perhaps we should talk about something a little...lighter, and more pleasant?" She interrupted. "Hadrian and I are moving to Scotland; to live in a small cottage, tucked away in a muggle village near Hogsmeade. We want to be settled, close by, whilst Seb's at Hogwarts."

"You're...you're staying around?"

"Yes." She smiled tentatively. "I know that it's...it's been a long time, but I..._we _would really like it if we could get back in touch." Harry looked at Snape, whose facial expression told him that he wasn't particularly fond of the idea.

"I would like that." Harry replied. "A lot." She grinned and reached into her pocket, pulling out a slip of parchment and handing it to him.

"This is our address. Bring Ginny, bring the children." She sighed, relieved. "You're welcome anytime."

"Perhaps," Snape drawled quietly, "you should be a little _less_ enthusiastic, my love." She laughed, flushing a little.

"You're right. I'm just excited, that's all." She squeezed his hand. "Go back to Draco if you like; give him our address too, please." She and Harry watched as he left, returning to Malfoy with another slap to the back. Harry suddenly felt a little overwhelmed as he turned to see that Snape had encouraged Sebastian to go over and talk to Albus, then to look back and see Hermione smiling up at him. And he really _did _see her – the real her. Her hair was still as it had always been, wild and uncontrollable, she simply looked a little older. He turned back to Snape and saw that he could see him too, realising that his disguise was not as drastically different as Hermione's was. Without thinking, he leapt forwards and threw his arms around Hermione. She laughed, squeezing him tightly. "What's wrong, Harry?"

"I just can't believe you're here. I feel as if I'll look up again and you'll disappear."

"Well I won't – we're going nowhere this time." She stepped back and grinned at him. "All is well, Harry. All is well."

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><p><em>AN: I could see no sense in waiting to post the epilogue, so here it is! And thus ends A Matter of Trust! Many thanks to all of those who have read and reviewed this story, particularly those who have followed it all along, and those who I can always rely on to give an interesting and honest review. At present I don't have anything new up my sleeve, but with three months of summer extending in front of me and a lot of free time, it's highly likely that I'll be publishing again soon. Many thanks again, and let me know what you think of this final chapter! Thanks! :) _


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